Destiny's Call
by Shadow - MCRmy
Summary: A different twist to the first movie. Second and third movie twists will follow. Note: I am revising and rewriting this story, new version will be posted ASAP!


**Destiny's Call**

**By Tomb Raider X**

**Chapter One  
Tangled Webs**

Legolas smiled as he looked around him. It was as though he'd passed from darkness to the light. War was erupting all about Middle Earth, but in Rivendell, the last homely city, the air was fresh and unsoiled with blood and war cries and whispers of fright. A tremendous weight was lifted from his shoulders. The borders were heavily guarded in Rivendell and for the first time in years did Legolas allow his awareness to lower though it never dropped much. Mirkwood had become a second home for Orcs who loved to ravage the woods and terrorize the elves that lived in them. Legolas, along with countless warriors from both North and South Mirkwood had been defending their homes for a long while and had few periods of rest.

Now...peace returned to him.

Legolas was roaming the upper terrace that overlooked the main gate of Rivendell. He was watching different messengers and warriors of all races and types arrive to bring news or speak with Elrond. He himself had only come this morning to find that times were even direr than he'd imagined. In his almost 2500 years, he'd only seen one other time so desperate when the free peoples of Middle Earth had been so threatened.

Excited chattering interrupted Legolas's increasingly gloomy thoughts. A group of 5 elves were huddled together, talking excitedly, and making their way down the terrace.

"Are you sure that it was her, Peredhel? I mean, so many are passing through here and "

"Yes, yes, a thousand times yes," answered an exasperated elf to the female Elf questioning him. "Lord Elrond sent her on a mission and she has been gone for over a week. One of the guards sawher crossing the ford. It's definitely her." He led the way down the stone steps to the gate from the ford, paying heed to Legolas, as did the other two male Elves. The two girls looked him over and smiled at him.

"_Mae govannen."_ He said politely as they passed.

The two girls looked back at him, smiling, but continued conversation with the other three about this girl who was supposedly arriving. The topic had now turned to boasting about who had seen her last and what adventures had unfolded during her last missions.

Legolas grinned at the Elves's enthusiasm. Obviously some long gone friend was returning, though a female about Middle Earth in such times was rather curious.

He leaned against a pillar, closing his eyes and breathed in the fresh, autumn air. The sun was radiating warmth on his face and he let his thoughts wander once again. He'd been told when he'd met with Elrond that he was to attend a council meeting tomorrow. There he would have to share the bad news from Mirkwood. But what else will be discussed, he wondered?

He was roused from his musings by gallop of hooves through the gate.

A girl rode through on a beautiful white stallion. He looked at her and felt shock ride his senses. She was Elven, that was obvious enough, but she looked like a mix of a princess and a ranger. It was such an odd combination that he found himself doing a double take. Her hair was long, and settled just below her hips. It was wavy and pulled back from her face into a braid.

She was wearing travelling clothes; a black, non-sleeved layered tunic, under which was a dark red shirt and black trousers, cut loosely for comfort but was a close fit for her slim form and black knee-high boots. A dark cloak was draped about her shoulders. An Elven sword was strapped to her back. A quiver of arrows was strapped to her horse, and a bow hung on the side of the quiver. She sat straight on her horse, comfortable, but almost regal. Maybe the sight wasn't as odd as it appeared to him, but the sight of the Elf strung a chord in him, of simultaneous recognition and curiosity.

The girl looked around and caught sight of the group who'd passed Legolas to meet her, and her lips broke into a large smile. The group was calling greetings and hurrying towards her. The girl laughed and slid off her horse into their waiting arms, hugging them all.

Legolas came to himself and realized that he was staring. He was just turning to leave when her eyes rose to his and he found himself floating in dark, piercing fires that both froze and melted his insides. Pulling himself away, he moved from the edge of the terrace, entering the cool shade of the Rivendell main hall, feeling as though he'd just jumped into a warm but deep spring.

Arwen climbed the long, winding staircase to Lord Elrond's private bower and study. She reached the heavy oak door and rapped softly.

"Come in." said Elrond, inside. She pushed open the door and restrained herself from rushing to him. Elrond was bent over a table of books and maps, his back to her.

"Do you have a moment, Father?" she asked respectively, standing near the wall.

He didn't move for a moment, but then turned, a large grin on his face. "_Arwen, amin mell_! (My dear) You are finally home!" He opened his arms and stepped forward, embracing Arwen, who quickly closed the distance between them.

"Oh Father, I've missed you so! And it is so good to be back in Rivendell again." she murmured against his ear.

"And we've missed you too, Arwen. Tell me about your adventures."

They conversed for well over three hours until the dinner horn was blown, and Arwen rushed to wash and change.

As the door thumped closed at the bottom of the stairs, Gandalf stepped from the shadows.

"Greetings, Lord Elrond." he said, leaning on his staff. "Our young hobbit is up and about and will join us at dinner."

"That is very good news indeed," said Elrond, a large smile on his face.

"She must go, Elrond," said Gandalf, meeting Elrond's eyes with a steady gaze.

Elrond sighed, the smile slipping from his lips.

"I know, Gandalf." He looked at the old wizard with a look as helpless as Gandalf had ever seen on the Elf. "She is my daughter," he offered in explanation for his hesitancy.

Gandalf smiled. "You've no need to worry, dear friend. She has your strength, and she is needed."

Elrond considered Gandalf's words, a slight smile returning. "Nothing gets by you, old man," he said.

"Let us go to dinner," The wizard led the way to the dining hall.

Arwen hurried into the dining hall just as the food was being brought out. She tried to be inconspicuous as she took her seat.

"Arwen!" Some of her friends called greetings from far down the table and everyone looked at her curiously. Tári turned her golden head and beamed, throwing her arms around Arwen. The girls had been close since childhood. Though Tári didn't live in Rivendell, Arwen had lived in Lórien for several years and they'd lived together. They had formed a close relationship and considered each other sisters.

"Welcome home, Arwen." Tári pulled away and met Arwen's eyes. "I've only just arrived here in Rivendell, but there has been nothing but peace here without you to stir things up."

Their plates were set before them and they both turned back to their settings.

"I've missed you so, Tári. I'm glad to see you here, but I don't know how you managed to voluntarily leave Lórien."

Tári laughed. "From one utopia to another. What a hard life I live. Though I must see, it is not as easy as most people perceive." Tári sighed. "It's been so long since I've been on a true adventure of my own."

"Someday you will come with me," Arwen said firmly, taking Tári 's hand.

"I intend to." Tári 's blue eyes sparkled in anticipation.

Arwen turned to her food and started eating slowly, savouring the unique tastes of Rivendell. This food from her home had not ever tasted as good as it did now. As she ate and chatted with Tári and the other people around her, she surveyed the faces at the long table. This was a feast to be noted, celebrating the good health of the young hobbit, Frodo Baggins whom had been close to death but was now out of the woods. Frodo was sitting across from her, but was deep in conversation with Gloin the Dwarf all through dinner and she had no opportunity to approach him and ask him how he was. There were many Elves at the table, already singing and chatting happily. Many waved at her as her eyes passed them and she was delighted to see many friends that she had not seen in a long while.

"Ah, you've found someone who's captured your fancy." Tári didn't look away as Arwen continued. "Prince Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil, from Mirkwood. My father sent for him. I'm not sure why, but I'm sure we'll find out soon enough." She got up from the table, leaving Tári to her spying.

Arwen walked around in the lush glades of Rivendell, finding some peace in the cool spring air. She was not sure how long she wandered, but is seemed like only a few minutes when she heard a voice behind her.

"Arwen!" came a voice from behind her. Arwen turned around and saw Tári beckoning to her. "Come on, we don't want to be late."

Arwen smiled and ran off with Tári.

Tári led the rest of the guests to the Hall of Fire to after dinner festivities with Elrond and Arwen. There the music and singing began and elves and men began to dance merrily, laughing and cheering. Storytelling and song popped up in small crowds and Arwen was even persuaded to sing.

"No, Merenwen, you know that I can't sing at all. Please!" she begged, trying to be excused from having to sing in front of so many people. Elves were known for their beautiful voices and were happy to sing for other people but for some reason, Arwen did not like singing for others. But at the begging of her friends, and many others who had gathered, she submitted and sang of some of her more exciting experiences travelling. Her songs were more fun stories, which she told very expressively, adding only a slight melody.

When she'd finished one about a particularly unruly troll, a familiar face in the throng of listeners caught her eye.

"Legolas!" she cried throwing herself into his arms. "It is so nice to see you again! How long has it been, dear friend?"

He laughed, in a merry mood. "Too long, dear Arwen."

Arwen laughed and swatted him. It was obvious to all that she adored him. He'd always been as an older brother to her. He was a good friend of the ranger Aragorn, who was away on business. They laughed and chatted with each other all night, both helping Bilbo Baggins finish a song that brought laughter to all. It was a festive night, where all worries were suspended. Those who knew of the trouble with the Ring knew that they would have much to be concerned of in the coming days and for that night allowed themselves to let go.

When Arwen pulled back the covers of her large, very inviting bed, she felt some of the peace and merriment that had lifted her spirits leave, and the troubles of Middle Earth returned to her.

As she had expected, Arwen slept too late. When she finally roused herself from sleep, she hurried into her long dress and cloak. Pulling the brush through her hair, she tied it in a braid before darting out the door and heading toward the place where the council was being held.

She turned a corner and suddenly dropped to her knees. A couple yards away, her father and a collection of races of people were conversing. Slowing her speed, Arwen moved quietly along the walkway, praying that the bubbling river behind them would drown her movements out. Searching for a place where she could hide without notice, she spied two of the Hobbits sneaking glances around the porch columns, hidden from the notice of the others.

There was Sam Gamgee. Arwen hurried forward, dropping down beside the small creature, much to his surprise.

"Where did you come from?" Sam asked in a hushed voice.

"Shhh, Sam!" Arwen told him. "I want to listen."

Sam threw her a cheeky look but settled down and they both quietly listened to the conversation above them.

When Elrond made his announcement about Frodo going to Mordor, Sam jumped up just as Arwen was about to ask him a question and denied allowing Frodo to go alone on such a dangerous mission. Arwen smiled at the concern and care she heard in his voice. How wonderful it must be to have one care for you so dearly!

Arwen jumped when a vicelike grip grabbed her arm and pulled her up before the others. She turned to find herself eye to eye with Gandalf. She felt her stomach fall hard.

"It seems we have not one intruder but two," Elrond rumbled, his gaze stern. "How many times have I told you not to eavesdrop on private councils?"

Arwen glanced over at her father; then quickly cast her gaze down. She felt utter and complete shame at her discovery. She looked round the room and caught Aragorn's eye. His face was stern, but his eyes were smiling. It was obvious that he was trying very hard to keep himself from laughing.

She turned to her father. "I am sorry, _Adar_." I did not mean to upset you. Her face broke out into a smile, but it quickly left when she saw that her father did not find it amusing. She quickly bowed and left the gathering, flashing a cheeky smile at Aragorn as she turned.

Only a few days after the meeting of the Council, Arwen was sitting beside the banks of the river, deep in thought when Aragorn appeared beside her.

"I've been looking for you," Aragorn said, sitting beside her on the boulder. "Gandalf said I might find you here."

Arwen flashed only a wisp of a smile.

"Why were you looking for me?" Arwen turned to face him, admiring the way the sunlight reflected in his blue eyes and glinted off the dark tone of his hair.

"Elrond has asked me to journey around, to learn what I can of the Black Riders. Many of us are being sent off throughout Middle-earth." He turned to meet her gaze. "I was wondering if you would like to ride with me."

"I would love to, Aragorn," she replied. "Thank you for the kind offer. I will ask father if I may go. If he lets me, I will be ready to leave at the appointed time." She got up and ran through the trees, towards the centre of Rivendell.

Spending most of the night tossing and turning, unwilling to think and yet unable to keep herself from doing so, Arwen roused herself early from bed that morning to greet the dawn. She walked out of her room and went to a secluded glen to take in the morning air.

"Good morning, Mistress Undomiel."

Arwen glanced up to find Sam, standing beside her. "Good morning, Sam. Where are you off to so early?"

"Some of the riders that Lord Elrond is sending out are leaving this morning. Mister Frodo felt it would be right of us to wish them well. Would you like to join us?"

"That would be very nice. Thank you, Sam." Arwen got up and walked with the Hobbit to Rivendell's main gates. Elrond greeted them as they arrived and gave a knowing look to her. Gandalf greeted her with a smile and a nod. She did not have time to talk before Sam pulled her over to Frodo, who greeted her with a soft smile before returning his attention to the group of riders who were leaving.

"I was hoping to see you before I left and also hoping that you could come with me."

Arwen started at the voice, turning to find Aragorn standing beside her. Arwen looked up at him and said quietly, "I wish you a safe journey, Aragorn."

Aragorn smiled and ran down the steps to his horse and mounted.

Aragorn raised his eyebrows slightly. "When I return, we must spend some time together. I haven't seen you for a while."

Arwen laughed. "Dear Aragorn! How kind you are! That would be very enjoyable. Unfortunately, I have the feeling that father will have another need for you upon your return. Be safe and well, son of Arathorn."

Arwen watched with Frodo and Sam as the riders exited from Rivendell, each departing in their respectful directions to learn what they could of the Black Riders and the ensuing threat from Mordor. Finally, the last rider turned the corner and was out of sight. Turning around, she glanced down to find Frodo looking up at her thoughtfully.

"Hello, Frodo. Is there something wrong?"

"No. I was just thinking about the council. How could you be so adventurous?"

Arwen blushed and said, "There's more to me than you think."

They both continued to talk. Sam listened silently to their conversation, slowly beginning to feel that his Master looked tired and should not talk any longer.

"Come along, Mister Frodo," Sam said, gently tugging at the other Hobbit's arm. "Let's find Merry and Pippin and have luncheon."

Frodo nodded and turned back to her. "I must go. Would you like to have supper with us this evening?"

Arwen smiled. "That is very kind of you to ask. Of course I would. When shall I come?

Frodo thinks for a moment. "How about after the meeting? I'll send Merry to get you."

Frodo and Sam turned and walked down the path toward the guest's quarters. Arwen watched as the two Hobbits walked away together; then walked back the way she had come.

**Chapter Two  
An Unexpected Journey**

The scouts slowly began to return and though there seemed to be no sign of the Black Riders, the news throughout Middle-earth was still grim. Time was growing short and the Fellowship would soon need to set out and destroy the Ring. Likewise, Arwen began to realize that her time was growing short as well. She had a choice to make, she had a course to follow and she had little time left to make her decisions.

She was sitting alone amidst the trees when Aragorn found her. He had only recently ridden in from the wild and when he had learned that Arwen was nearby, he rushed immediately to find her. He stood silently for a long while and watched her.

Aragorn took a step forward, softly calling out her name. For a moment, he thought she had not heard him, but then Arwen stood and turned around. With a smile on her face, she ran towards him. When she reached him, she leapt into his arms.

"_A'maelamin_," he whispered, holding her against him. She was soft and delicate in his arms and smelled of the sweetest flowers. He combed his fingers through her brown hair, gently stroked her back, speaking to her.

"I wish I could have gone with you," she said, feeling happy that Aragorn had returned.

"To tell you the truth, it wasn't very enjoyable. I am glad I am back," Aragorn said.

"Still," said Arwen, "Some day..."

Reaching out, he touched his fingers to her cheek, stroking softly to her neck. "I thought of you often during my journey, wondering if you thought of me as well."

Thought of him? He was never far from her thoughts or her dreams. His touch was like a brand against her skin, leaving a trail of tiny shivers down her cheek as his finger caressed. "Of course I thought of you, Aragorn. And wished you a safe return."

"Lord Aragorn, Lady Arwen." One of the Rivendell Elves stepped out of the shadows, bowing to them both. "Lord Elrond requests your presence."

Taking her hand, Aragorn led Arwen across the bridges and past the spanning terraces of Rivendell until they reached the courtyard where already assembled were Elrond, the Hobbits, Gandalf, and Legolas. Staying close to Aragorn, Arwen listened silently as Elrond informed Frodo of his decision with regards to who would travel with him and Sam to Mordor. They seemed pleased with the choice of Gandalf and Aragorn and Legolas appeared surprised when it was announced that he was to represent the Elves. Inwardly, Arwen smiled when Merry and Pippin learned they were not to attend and argued their case until Elrond was forced to relent. Also included in the Fellowship were Boromir from Gondor and Gimli, son of Gloin, for the Dwarves. The Fellowship of Nine had been chosen.

"Arwen." Elrond then turned to her, his voice grave. "For a long time we have spoken together of the journey that is ahead for our travellers. I have taken both our council together and that of Gandalf's to heart and have made this final decision: I wish for you to attend the Fellowship as well. There are to be ten travelers and not nine."

"What?" Arwen almost shouted.

"Lord Elrond, are you certain this is wise?" Legolas questioned, his dark brow forming into a frown. "The road ahead will be dangerous and uncertain. She is but a mere woman and cannot -- "

"Hey!" Arwen interrupted him, turning with a disbelieving gaze. "A "mere" woman? You think I'm not strong enough to travel with you?"

Legolas smiled kindly. "It is said with no offence, Arwen. There will, without a doubt, be many battles ahead of us. While I agree that you are both wise and fair, I do not believe -- "

Arwen shook her head. "This is ridiculous."

"I am afraid I have to agree with Legolas on this matter, Lord Elrond," Aragorn added, casting a quick gaze at Arwen who was first glowering at Legolas and now cast her surprised gaze to him. "Even thought I am full aware of what you can do, Arwen, this is not an errand for a woman. We will be travelling far and fast and encountering many dangers. Her company would only hinder our journey."

Arwen was ready to once more protest when Gandalf stayed her with a hand on her arm. She clamped her mouth shut, fuming silently at the testosterone charged atmosphere around her. She wanted to kick each and every one of them.

"I believe that your assessment of Arwen is unfair," Gandalf commented, glancing at each of the Fellowship members. "There is much more to this Elf than meets the eye." Turning to Arwen, Gandalf asked, "It is true, is it not, that you are practiced in the art of swordplay?"

Arwen half-smiled, but only nodded.

"And you ride well, should the need arise?"

At that, Arwen grinned cockily. "Better than anyone here, I can guarantee it."

"You know that we must travel far and that the journey will not be an easy one."

She nodded. "I'll be the last to complain. And I promise not to lag behind. "In fact," and at this she turned and gave Legolas a pointed look, "Even you will have difficulty keeping up with me."

This was received with amused looks from all around, except for Gandalf who believed what Arwen had to say, and Elrond who knew full what his daughter was capable of.

And so it was, by dusk that evening, that the Fellowship of the Ring set out for Mordor, plus one female. Arwen had silently promised herself not to forgive any of those who believed she was somehow less than them, and decided not to speak to them whatsoever. It made the first few hours a bit lonely since Gandalf was not one for lengthy conversation.

Arwen walked next to the Wizard for the first dozen or so miles that they covered. As the sun sank beyond the hills and darkness consumed the land, she found she was grateful for having so many companions. The beauty of Middle-earth was slowly overtaken by a haunting wariness. Strange sounds caused her to more than once peer into the darkness in trepidation. She moved her hand and felt the sword that was strapped to her back. It was a beautiful sword; crafted by her people, light enough for her to swing easily, yet still long and deadly. Arwen happily experienced a brief memory of home-her practicing sword fighting with other friends, near Lothlorien. She was glad that everything she had learned had not left her.

On they walked and true to her word, Arwen did not allow a yawn to escape her lips nor any sort of hobble to impede her walk. In fact, she had to credit the comfortable, knee-high black boots she had for the lack of soreness to her feet. The outfit she wore was likewise created for travelling great distances. She had requested wearing a tunic like the Men, but she had only received shocked stares in reply. She was, after all, female. But ignoring their protests, and with her father's permission, she wore a black, non-sleeved leather tunic that came to her knees. Underneath her tunic she wore a pair of black trousers and a dark red long-sleeved shirt, with forearm protectors over her shirt. The entire outfit was comfortable and easy to move around in. To finish it off, the sword and a quiver were strapped to her back. She carried a bow comfortably but firmly in her left hand. A pack of supplies, which did not interfere with the use of the sword or the quiver, was slung over her back.

"Dawn is nearing," Gandalf commented beside her.

Arwen looked up to see light approaching the horizon. They had entered the hills, beyond which a steady rise of mountains stemmed, the highest peaks blanketed in glistening snow.

An hour later they finally stopped to rest at the top of a boulder-strewn hill. To their backs rose the snow covered peaks and before them a low valley. Arwen stretched a bit before sitting, determined not to get any cramps. She then tucked her knees up under her chin, wrapping her arms around her calves, and stared out at her companions as they dispersed among the rocks.

Sam immediately set about to cooking up something for them to eat, and Arwen felt her stomach growl indiscreetly at the thought. She knew Hobbits ate well and that out of his "magic" pack he would be able to cook up quite a feast.

Stretching her legs out before her, Arwen considered taking a brief nap but she realized her mind and body were much too restless. She got up and went to a large boulder overlooking the valley and made it to the top with two elegant cat-like leaps. She set her senses on alert and had her bow in hand as she scanned the horizon.

"You should get some sleep," Legolas commented behind her.

She turned to look at him. "You shouldn't try to startle people like that."

Legolas laughed and jumped up the rock until he stood before her.

"Would you like to learn a bit of archery?" Legolas asked, after a few moments of silence. At her sharp glance, he added, "I have no doubts you are skilled with the sword - you carry it as if you are used to one. But it always helps to know more than one weapon."

Arwen agreed and Legolas took her hand, leading her over the rocks until they reached a rather large and flat outcropping, beyond, which laid a sparse grove of trees. The drop below them was steep, but she tried not to pay any attention to it as Legolas put down his bow.

"Shouldn't I not waste these?" Arwen asked with concern.

The Elf glanced at her and smiled. "Not to worry. I will retrieve them for you when we are finished." He beckoned her over to him. _"Tula sinome."_ (Come here)

She smiled, allowing him to pull her before him and position her in the correct stance. She attempted to concentrate on everything he was telling her with regards to how to properly hold the bow and position the arrow. But the first arrow she let fly was a good two hundred feet off its mark. She was mortified.

Legolas just smiled. "Try again. Relax."

He stepped back, releasing his grasp around her and sat down on a rock to watch and see how she did. Arwen stood totally still, with the bow in her hand, her eyes fixed on the gnarl in the tree. She pulled an arrow out of her quiver and notched onto her bow. She drew the bow back, fixed her eyes on the gnarl and fired. As the arrow left the bow, Arwen shut her eyes. Only when she was sure that the arrow had hit the tree, did she open her eyes. As they opened, she focused them on the tree. The arrow was dead in the centre, next to the one that Legolas had shot.

"_Lle ume quells,_ (You did well) Legolas said as he came up behind her.

"Either of you archers hungry?" Aragorn called from the rock above them.

"Sure am," Arwen returned.

"Go on," the Elf told her. "I am going to retrieve your arrows and will join you in a bit."

Arwen watched as he sprinted away from her, leaping lightly from boulder to boulder until he reached the other side of the canyon, then she hurried off to grab a plate of food.

Sam piled it high with biscuits, sausages and bacon and Arwen instinctively knew she had never had a more unhealthy meal in her life but neither had she ever had one that smelled and tasted so good. Climbing her way among the rocks, she found Gandalf sitting by himself, quietly smoking his pipe, and she took a seat beside him. Her first bite of sausage was sheer bliss. After that, she did not remember eating, finishing her meal as quickly as she did. The Wizard watched her silently, continuing to puff away on his pipe, the wisp of a smile on his face.

"Wow, that was good." Arwen leaned back, folding an arm behind her head to stare up at the clear blue sky. "Will we be travelling at dusk again?"

"It is safest. Have you any thoughts?"

Arwen considered the question for a moment before replying, "There is something about the mountains behind us, the snow, that bothers me. But I cannot remember what it is."

Gandalf shrugged. "Then I would not worry, for we will not cross that way."

She glanced away, searching for Legolas, smiling when she finally found him, standing like a sentinel among the rocks, protecting the Fellowship. As if he felt her gaze, he turned to her and flashed a quick smile before his gaze once more settled on the area around them.

Arwen got up and walked over to where he was standing. She leapt up to the top of the rock and joined him on sentinel duty. As they both stood there, Arwen noticed a dark cloud flying toward them. She pointed it out to Legolas, who narrowed his eyes to try and see what it was. After staring at it for a few minutes, his eyes suddenly widened in horror. He turned to the rest of the Fellowship.

"Crebain from Dunland!"

"Hide!"

Arwen turned and jumped off the rock in one leap, running over to where Sam and Frodo were sitting. She motioned to them. "Quick, we must hide." Without question they did as she instructed. Sam grabbed a bucket of water and extinguished the fire; then followed her to a bush nearby. She crawled through the twigs and leaves, cutting herself on the thorns, until Sam and her were well hidden beneath the shrubs. For moments it was the only sound around them, then the flapping and squawking of a great many birds overhead interrupted the silence.

Arwen glanced up through the trees. An enormous flock of black, mean-looking birds were flying through the sky above them. They circled the area as if searching for something. She flashed a questioning glance at Legolas, who was hiding nearby, but he only shook his head and motioned her to silence. Nodding discreetly, Arwen remained motionless under the bush, contemplating the sharp pain of a rock digging into her back. She fought the urge to shift, focusing instead on the strong and worried grasp of her right wrist by Sam's hand.

Silence once more descended over the mountain. Aragorn looked over at her, their gazes locking.

"We're alright," she told him softly.

The danger passed. Aragorn jumped to his feet; ran over and helped Arwen to hers. They both turned to Gandalf who was likewise emerging from his hiding place. His expression was grim.

"Spies from Saruman," he said without preamble. "The passage south is being watched. We must take the Northern route over Caradhras."

Arwen followed his gaze to the snow capped mountains. A tremor ran through her.

Now she understood why the image of the mountain had appeared so sinister to her.

**Chapter Three  
Caradhras  
  
**

It was worse than cold.

That had been one of the only thoughts in Arwen's mind for over an hour. And it only continued to become colder the higher they climbed.

After their narrow escape from being seen by the Crebain, Gandalf had informed them that they would not be allowed to rest any longer and must quickly disappear into the mountains. At the wretched expressions on the Hobbit's faces, he had quickly added that they would rest again once they had reached Caradhras. It had sounded like a great idea, until Arwen realized that meant attempting to sleep in sub-zero temperatures. She knew they would not be allowed a fire, since it would be too easily seen, and doubted the Hobbits had considered that.

The snow was deep but the climb was worse still. It seemed to continue to go up and up, and the Hobbits were having difficulty struggling along, even though they followed in the tracks of the steps already made by their larger companions. More than once, Arwen had reached out a helping hand to Merry or Pippin who had trudged along beside her for the past few hours. They talked softly, telling her about the Shire and their lives there, sharing amusing stories of growing up together and the troubles they had caused. Arwen discovered that she was very quickly developing a maternal need to protect the four small beings who so courageously had set out on this dangerous quest. Especially adorable Pippin, who was constantly at her side and always brought a smile to her face. Eventually they dropped back though, and Arwen was left alone with her musings.

"_Lle quell, melamin?_" (Are you well, my love) Aragorn appeared silently beside her.

Smiling at her welcomed companion, she nodded. _"Amin quell, diola lle."_

Aragorn smiled, placing a soft kiss near her temple. Before she could respond, he leapt ahead of her, moving closer to the front of the line. Arwen clenched her hands into fists at her side, digging the nails deeply into her palms, praying that no one around her noticed the little interplay between them. She wished the entire company could be offered a moment of levity, just so that she could at least plant a firm snowball in the square of Aragorn's broad back. The tease.

The sun was still shining high above when they began their last deep ascent up the mountain. Once they reached the next rise, Gandalf promised that they would rest. From there they would move their way around the mountain pass, which he warned them would be filled with narrow passages and steep cliffs. Boromir and Gimli walked beside Arwen for a brief time, during which the Man spoke for a while of Gondor and Gimli offered her tales of his cousin's dwelling in the Mines of Moria, which he had unsuccessfully convinced Gandalf to travel through. Behind them Frodo and Aragorn followed silently.

They had not travelled much further when behind her Arwen heard a small gasp and "Umph!" and she turned to see Frodo tumbling back down the path they had just climbed, his exhaustion finally overtaking him. Luckily, Aragorn caught him before he tumbled much further and lifted the Hobbit back to his feet. Thinking to herself that perhaps she should make a suggestion to Gandalf that they stop for a rest now, Arwen's attention wavered when she saw Frodo reach for his neck, then pause. His gaze widened and he looked back up at them, to the point where he had fallen. Following his gaze, Arwen quickly spied what it was that had set the look of panic upon the Hobbit's face.

The ring lay in the snow, right in front of everybody. Before anybody could do anything, Boromir leaned over and grasped it by the chain, lifting it into his hand, holding it before him.

"Boromir!" Aragorn's voice echoed over the mountain. Boromir was drawn from his musings, peering down the slope to where Frodo had tumbled, the Ranger standing protectively behind him. "Give the Ring to Frodo."

Boromir moved slowly back through the tracks in the snow, returning the Ring to Frodo as bidden. He then turned around and walked back up towards the rest of the group.

Aragorn slowly removed his hand from his sword.

It was another hour before Gandalf finally called the travellers to a halt. Behind them rose a tall rock outcropping under which they would receive at least minor protection from the wind, which had seemed to steadily increase the higher they climbed. The snowfall had reached blizzard conditions and their progress had slowed. Even the spirits of their pack pony, Bill, had seemed to decline the further their journey took them.

Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn set off in opposite directions to perform a quick check of the surrounding area. Arwen stood outside the cave, looking around at the snow-covered mountain. Inside she could hear Boromir arguing with Gandalf that they needed to at least attempt a fire or the Hobbits would freeze to death.

"Get in there with the Hobbits," Boromir told her gruffly, appearing at her side. "There's more shelter if you stay close to the wall. Gandalf has relented with regards to a fire."

Arwen smiled. "Well, there's at least some good news." She pulled her cloak tightly over her shoulders and walked over to the Hobbits.

"Arwen!" Pippin smiled up at her in welcome. "Sit here. We can block the wind and chill if we all stay close together."

Arwen laughed, the brief thought flashing through her mind that she would soon be "huddling with Hobbits". It had a certain rhyme to it, if nothing else. She scooted in between Merry and Pippin, while Frodo and Sam remained on her far right.

Leaning back against the rock wall, she focused her attention on Pippin, who was generally complaining about the snow and describing the lush green of the Shire. Twice Merry told him to hush, that his musings were only serving to depress the lot of them, but Pippin argued this, saying that they could pretend to be warm by thinking warm thoughts. His companions scoffed at the comment but Arwen gave his tiny shoulders an encouraging squeeze and he turned his full charm on her, ignoring the naysayers.

A fire was soon set ablaze, but it quickly died against the wind. Boromir grumbled all the while, attempting many times more to get it going, but once it eventually caught, there was not enough of a blaze from the small amount of wood that they had brought with them. They ate a quick, cold meal around it before it finally died away and then the Hobbits huddled miserably back against the rock.

Restless, and unwilling to settle down, Arwen continued to pace in the confines of the outcropping. Darkness had overtaken the mountain and the winds howled violently around them, a wall of snow beginning to form before them, closing them in against the rock. If nothing else, it would create protection from the wind, though it would not be pleasant to excavate themselves out of in a few hours time.

Frowning, Arwen realized that Aragorn had been gone for over an hour and had yet to return. For all she knew he was about the snow, having a grand old time. But still, she would have preferred that he was there, where she knew by his very presence that he was safe.

As luck would have it, Aragorn was the first to return, almost colliding with Arwen during her continued pacing. "You should be getting some rest, Arwen, " he told her, casting a glance at the others. He nodded once to Boromir, as if signalling that the area around them appeared safe.

"I'm not tired."

"I will not have your eventual fatigue impeding our journey," the Ranger told her quietly. "You have slept little. If you do not rest soon, you will collapse. And I will not leave you here."

Arwen flashed him a cheeky look but he only stared it down until she looked away. "It's too cold to sleep," she finally said.

"Try." His tone gentled. "At least close your eyes and pretend to sleep. Daydream if you must. It is better than wearing yourself out with this needless pacing."

Sighing, Arwen did as he commanded, moving to the far corner of the shelter and sitting back against it. She closed her eyes but she could still hear the roaring of the wind around her. And that only served to make her colder still. She tried to take Pippin's advice and think warm thoughts but she always came back to images of sleet and snow. As tired as she truly was, sleep just would not come and she soon found herself silently reciting Elven words.

"You are restless, _melamin_."

Arwen opened her eyes to find Aragorn kneeling before her, leaning into her, his eyes only inches from hers. "Not restless, just slightly cold." She smiled.

Aragorn smiled and moved beside her. Lifting his arm over her shoulders, he instructed, "_Tula sinome_." (Come here)

Arwen moved against him without hesitation. His arm came around her and he pulled her close to his body. She did not resist as he took her hands into his, removing her black gloves and soothingly rubbing her cold fingers, enfolding them protectively into his palms. Within moments the horrible chill left her and a comforting heat was settling through her body.

"_Diola lle_ (Thank you)," Arwen told him quietly, turning her head to look up at him.

_"Seasamin_ (My pleasure)." He met her gaze and smiled gently. Reaching up he touched her cheek, stroking the back of his knuckles across her skin, eliciting the softest of sighs at his touch. "_Lle naa vanima_ (You are beautiful)," he whispered.

She blushed and looked away. _"Diola lle, Aragorn."_

"_Esta, melamin_ (Rest, my love)." Gently pushing Arwen's head to his shoulder, Aragorn pulled his cloak over her like a blanket and then wrapped his arms around her, securing her in his warmth. "I will not leave your side."

Sighing with threads of complete contentment, Arwen closed her eyes and a deep sleep quickly consumed her.

"_Melamin_?"

Arwen's eyes flew open, wondering for a moment if there was danger. For a moment, she was certain they were being attacked. But then Aragorn was caressing her cheek, whispering softly into her ear. His voice soothed her.

Arwen smiled and got up. She then went over and helped Legolas as the camp was packed up and they prepared to make their way across the mountain once more. It had only been hours since Aragorn had lulled her to sleep. The Hobbits appeared groggy as well, but the others seemed well rested. Boromir, Legolas and Gimli had already cleared most of the snow that had billowed into a wall around the rock. The sight left to them was disheartening. In those few hours, many feet of snow had fallen. The journey ahead would be even more difficult than that of the day before.

Glancing back at the four Hobbits, Aragorn commented grimly, "They will never make it through this. It is too deep."

"We can carry them," Boromir suggested. "The rest of us will simply have to burrow a path through it."

Arwen turned to Boromir. "I will help. Let me carry Pippin."

Aragorn turned to Gandalf. "We should go back. This mountain is defeating us."

The Wizard shook his head. "No. There is no other way."

"The Mines of Moria - " Gimli began but Gandalf quickly cut him off.

"No, Gimli. I have already told you, that path is not open to us. We must cross Caradhras."

"Somehow, I don't think Caradhras agrees with you," Arwen commented flippantly.

Boromir seemed to smile at this, and the Hobbits nodded in agreement but she only received expressions of derision from Gandalf. Shrugging, Arwen fell in line behind Gandalf, who led them out of the shelter and without another word, the Fellowship set out once more into the snow.

Sadly, the crossing of Caradhras was not to be.

If possible, the storm raged ever more fiercely. Arwen could only watch in disbelieving horror as the flurry continued to accumulate around them. In front of her, Gandalf pushed through the snow, creating some semblance of a path with his staff. It did not seem to help. Arwen walked forward on top of the snow, carrying Pippin in her arms. Pushing through the thick snow, Boromir followed behind, carrying Merry with Aragorn behind him, likewise carrying Frodo and Sam. Gimli was left to lead poor Bill and Legolas walked quietly behind the group, also on top of the snow.

Even more treacherous was the course that they were forced to take. On one side the mountain loomed above them, its peak far out of both reach and sight. On the other side, a canyon wall loomed, its drop steep and deadly. The narrow path on which they walked was only wide enough for single file movement. In this way only were the walls of snow around them a comfort; they provided a much-needed buffer from the looming edge beside them.

Arwen felt herself start to slip. Steadying herself, her gaze wandered to Legolas, who walked past her and Gandalf, towards the front of the line. They halted, watching him warily as he appeared to scan the canyons in front of them.

Above the screaming storm, he hollered, "There is a foul voice on the air."

"It's Saruman!" Gandalf shouted, his frustration and fury evident in his tone.

As if on cue, a thundering roiled overhead and a barrage of rocks and ice fell past them, tumbling into the abyss. Arwen threw herself back against the wall, the very real threat of a landslide foremost in her mind. She watched as the Wizard clamoured his way up over the snow, gaining a foothold on a jutting rock that positioned itself over the canyon. He began chanting words into the wind. Arwen quietly hoped it would somehow help the situation. He was a Wizard, after all. Certainly he would be able to make things better.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain," Aragorn yelled. "Gandalf, we must turn back."

"No!" Gandalf shouted back.

It only got worse. Amidst the winds and snow, lightning leapt out from an ominous cloud, hitting the cliffs above, loosening tons of the newly accumulated snowfall. Arwen only had a moment to see Legolas grab Gandalf from his perch and pull him to safety as the snow and ice tumbled down on top of the party, burying them beneath it. She fell back as it hit, burying Pippin's head in her shoulder as the snow fell on them. The avalanche continued until no trace of the party or the path they had created was left visible.

Seconds passed. Legolas was the first to climb his way out of the avalanche. He glanced in panic at the rest of the party, relief filling him when he saw hands begin to gain the surface, and the others began clawing their way up out of the snow.

Aragorn searched, waiting to see the telltale brown head of Arwen surface, but there was nothing. The others were beginning to argue about what must be done, that they must get off the mountain before it consumed them, but Aragorn's thoughts were only for the Elf and the young Hobbit, who had yet to appear.

Leaping up from the pile of snow around him, Aragorn hurried his way across the path to where he had last seen Arwen. Just before he got there, the snow started to move. He stopped pushing his way through the snow and waited. The snow moved once more. Suddenly the snow crumbled, and a snow-covered figure leapt out with a bundle, shaking its head around.

"Man, that was annoying," Arwen exclaimed as she joined the rest of the group.

Frodo, Sam and Merry stared at her with worried expressions. Gandalf frowned.

"Where is Pippin?"

Arwen came over to the three anxious Hobbits and set the bundle down that she was carrying. Pippin took off his hood and looked around.

"I'm hungry," he said with a definite tone in his voice.

Everyone laughed. They were so happy that he was all right.

Suddenly a roar of thunder sounded as everybody was brought back to the present.

Boromir looked at the others and spoke, "We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!"

Aragorn turned and snapped, "The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!"

"If we cannot pass over a mountain, let us go under it. Let us go through the Mines of Moria."

Gandalf looked at Gimli who had spoken last, "Let the Ring bearer decide. He looked at Frodo. Frodo?"

Frodo looked first at Gandalf; then at Sam. "We will go through the mines."

Gandalf sighed, "So be it."

**Chapter Four  
Into Darkness**

**  
  
**Dawn passed; the sun seemed to fly by overhead and nighttime covered Middle-earth once more as they approached the walls of Moria. Aragorn had refused to allow Arwen to walk on her own until they were halfway down Caradhras and had stopped to rest for the day. The rest had felt good after her harrowing experience.

Once they had cleared the mountains, Arwen's spirits rose once more. She had always hated the winter and the snows of Caradhras had only served to send her into a spiralling depression. The air was still crisp but not so much that her cloak did not provide comfort. They were able to move at a much quicker pace as well, which warmed her limbs.

The west road to Moria was a barren country of red stones. Although Gandalf has assured them that a stream followed the course there, they were unable to find it or any sound of water. Everything around them was bleak and dry, a stark contrast to the path they had just travelled from. Arwen's mind was allowed the time to wander, her thoughts continually turning back to Aragorn and his care for her on Caradhras.

Briefly, Arwen's musings were interrupted when Gimli joined her, asking how she faired and then regaling her with tales of Moria and the great halls that the Dwarves had carved within the mountain. She smiled at his description, hoping that the gnawing uncertainty in the back of her mind was unfounded and that the great welcome he assured her they would receive would actually come to fruition.

"Arwen!" Gandalf's voice called out from the front of the line. "Join me."

Flashing a parting smile at Gimli, Arwen broke into a quick trot up the line to where Gandalf led the party. Falling in beside him, she looked up at the Wizard and found he was regarding her thoughtfully.

"What is it?" She asked.

Gandalf pointed ahead with his staff. She followed his gaze toward the cliffs that rose above them in the approaching distance. "Moria. Have you any thoughts of where our travel takes us?"

She shook her head. "No. Nothing." She sighed in frustration.

Gandalf nodded. "Where we go now live horrors your previous life has not given you chance to think about."

The Wizard moved ahead as Arwen's step faltered. Just what was that supposed to mean?

Sighing, Arwen fell back into the line once more, pausing to tease Pippin who moaned loudly that he was hungry. She walked behind the Hobbits, in front of Boromir, watching as Gimli hurried past to catch up to Gandalf. Accordingly, the Dwarf seemed to be the only one excited about reaching the mines. Reaching into her pack, Arwen removed a piece of stale bread and took a small bite, chewing it thoughtfully. She missed the fresh meals served at Rivendell and the clear, cool wine of the Elves.

Arwen sighed, her thoughts once more returning to Aragorn. Curiously, she glanced over her shoulder, only to find that he was not more than a few feet behind her, slowing moving up the line, his gaze ever watchful. When he arrived at her side, he reached out and gently brushed the back of his hand across her cheek, without once breaking stride, before moving on again.

The briefest of contact and yet it was like the dawn of a new day to Arwen. Her step lightened, her hunger diminished and the weight of the world seem to lift from her shoulders. Arwen watched as he moved in the night. The entire world appeared to awaken as he passed through it, welcoming him into its embrace. Arwen allowed a smile.

To reach the entrance into the mines, the party was forced to skirt a lake of dark, still waters -- Sirannon, the Gate-stream as Gandalf had referred to it -- that appeared black and endless in the twilight. Arwen found herself instinctively holding her cloak out of reach of the water, her steps careful not to touch it. There was something ultimately disturbing about the lake that was obviously felt by the entire party, for no one wished to go near it. Even the cold stars in the sky above refused to reflect their light on the surface of the dark waters. At some point, Pippin had taken hold of Arwen's hand and walked with her on the opposite side of the water, as if purposely keeping her between him and the lake.

The party stopped. Arwen glanced ahead to see Gandalf touching the face of the rising cliffs, which stood before them, searching for something in the darkness. He stood back just as the moon broke through the clouds and as one the party stood in wonder as faint lines began to appear, like veins of silver and gold etched into the rock. Slowly, they became broader, wider, detailing an intricate picture, surrounded by Elven characters. Arwen quietly studied the artwork, the centre of which shown a single star with many rays, surrounded by an anvil and hammer and a crown with seven stars. On either side, each bearing crescent moons, were two trees.

"Those are the emblems of Durin," Gimli whispered to Arwen, pride in his voice.

"And the tree of the High Elves," added Legolas thoughtfully, as he moved up beside Pippin.

She had been careful to note that there was no love lost between Elves and Dwarves. This fact had only been compounded by the time she had spent in the Fellowship's company, watching the interaction between Gimli and Legolas. Though neither of them had actually come out and said it during their journey, there was obvious distrust between them. Even though she was an Elf, Arwen had thought it best not to take sides in the matter.

Staring up at the Elven writing, Gandalf pointed with his staff, translating the words for the non-Elvish members of the group. "The doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter."

"I wonder what that means," Merry commented, glancing at the Wizard.

"Oh, it's quite simple," Gandalf replied. "If you are a friend, just speak the password and the doors will open."

Standing back, the Wizard held out his staff and spoke in a commanding voice, chanting in some language that Arwen could only guess at. The party stood waiting expectantly.

The doors did not open.

Grunting, Gandalf stepped forward, pressing the edge of his staff into the doors, speaking another incantation. Still nothing. The Wizard began pushing against the doors with his shoulders, as if thinking he could somehow make the massive stone walls move through force of will. Arwen had to bite her lower lip to keep from laughing at the sight. She glanced down at Gimli who had a similar bemused expression on his face.

Well, so much for speaking the password.

Minutes passed without progress. The company soon turned away from the Wizard's attempts and settled themselves in the area, preparing for what could be a very long wait. Legolas drifted over to the only tree - a gnarled, forbidding icon of nature that stood as a lonely sentinel amid the rock and cold waters. He felt its sorrow, and it seemed to silently warn him that the darkness was only a shadow in which evil could hide.

Aragorn scanned the area quietly, certain that each member of the Fellowship was present and accounted for, when his gaze drifted over to Arwen.

She sat near Boromir, on a grouping of knotted, twisted roots and fallen trees, and Merry and Pippin stood near, chatting excitedly to her and the Man. She turned her gaze to Boromir when he spoke, awarding him with her undivided attention and smile and Aragorn felt a strange stirring of anger and discomfort within him. It was a feeling he was unused to and he shifted his position uncomfortably against the tree, casting his gaze out toward the quiet lake. And yet, why should he feel any misgivings of Arwen's reactions toward the Man? He would never completely understand her, just as she could never understand him.

His silent reasoning fell on a deaf heart.

Without conscious thought his gaze drifted back to her. He knew so little about Arwen and where she was from and yet it did not seem to matter. He knew that she chewed on her lower lip when she was anxious or thoughtful. She did not shy away from laughter but gave over to it freely. She did not back down from a challenge, whether she was capable of meeting it or not. She loved the sound of rushing water and a soft breeze rustling the leaves of autumn. Though she was daily faced with derision among many of the members of the company, she did not falter in her promise to make their journey her own.

Her thick tresses were tied in a long braid more often than not. Her hands were small, and fit within his perfectly. Her lips felt like rose petals and she smelled of spice and honey. Her eyes glittered in the moonlight and became translucent in the sun. She was stubborn and mysterious and flighty and moody and he did not doubt that she harboured both the best and worst traits that a couple of their people had. She was an innocent, a newborn compared to him. But sometimes her choices would be pure wisdom and she would fly while he would stumble.

And yet, Aragorn wanted her still. A feeling of ordered unpredictability in a chaotic world that he generally chose to ignore. Arwen's spirit promised a light when there should be only darkness, music when it would be right for silence, laughter in place of tears.

He would never understand her and it no longer mattered. Amidst the cling and clatter of the living world around him, her soul called to him. And he could do no less than respond.

Arwen laughed and Aragorn found himself smiling.

"Wait a minute!" Frodo jumped up and all eyes turned toward him. "It's a riddle." He stood before the stone doors, his dark head slightly cocked to the side. "What's the Elvish word for 'friend'?"

Gandalf, who had given up minutes before and sat grumpily beside the lake, looked up. _"Mellon."_

With a grumble and groan, the doors slowly slid outward, allowing an opening into the yawning darkness of the mountain. The company moved forward into the cavern.

Curious, Arwen moved up between Gimli and Legolas, her eyes refusing to adjust to the dark, as they passed through the doorway. Gimli was proclaiming proudly beside her that now her and Legolas would enjoy the fine hospitality of the Dwarves. She tripped over something on the floor, Legolas reaching out to grab and steady her before she could fall. She became more cautious then, taking furtive steps while just ahead, a light began to show from Gandalf's staff.

"And they call it a mine!" Gimli announced disbelievingly beside her. "A mine!"

"This is no mine," Boromir replied grimly, stopping so abruptly that Arwen almost ran into him. "It's a tomb."

At his words, Arwen's gaze flashed quickly around the room in which they stood. It had once been a formal entry by its structure, with a grand staircase built into the rock looming before them. Only no kingly Dwarfs were there to greet them.

They were all dead. Long dead.

Arwen gasped at the rotted and decomposed skeletons that covered the floor at their feet and continued on up the stairs. There were more than a dozen, twisted in various angles of painful death, arrows protruding from their bones. Instinctively, she took a step back.

"Goblins!" Legolas had moved to one of the corpses, pulling an arrow from its head and examining it. At his discovery he quickly stood, in a one fluid motion grabbing an arrow from the quiver and affixing it into his bow. Arwen did the same.

"We make for the Gap of Rohan," Boromir told them, stating what had become glaringly obvious. It was the only path left to them.

Unable to tear her eyes from the carnage before them, Arwen hesitated from exiting the cavern, only to hear the Hobbits scream out from behind her. Turning, Arwen was knocked out of the way as Boromir rushed past her to the edge of the lake where it appeared a large tentacle had reached out and grabbed hold of Frodo. More tentacles quickly emerged and a growing nightmare was soon appearing outside the mountain. Arwen started to help as well but Gandalf reached her side and took hold of her arm.

"Stay in here. Guard our backs in case Goblins surface."

Arwen was about to protest but at his steady gaze she backed down. He was right, after all. Even Legolas remained near the entrance where he could fire his arrows in rapid succession without getting in the way of Boromir, Aragorn and Gimli who chopped madly at the tentacles with swords and axe. Arwen gingerly clasped the hilt of her sword, peering into the darkness of the cave.

"Get inside!"

She turned as the Wizard grabbed her arm at the shout and they headed deeper into the cavern, the Hobbits and warriors close on their heels. Behind them, a great cacophony of falling stone and collapsing earth stretched forth, reaching toward them. Dust encapsulated them and darkness quickly descended. Arwen came to a halt, unable to move any further because she could not see. Gandalf had stepped out of her reach. Someone was beside her and upon reaching out she realized it was Boromir.

Gandalf's staff blazed into existence. The sight before them was a grim one. Their escape was gone; the entire mouth of the cave collapsed inward, rock piled upon rock. Arwen swallowed at the sight, glancing over her shoulder to the staircase and the bodies that covered it.

"We have but one path left to us," Gandalf said morosely. We must face the long and darkness of Moria. Be on your guard. There are far more dangerous things than Orcs in the deep places of the world." He paused. "Quietly now, it is a four day journey to the other side. And let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed."

Arwen turned her gaze furtively back to the cave-in. She could not help but wish there were some way to clear the debris. Anything was preferable to suffering whatever fate had befallen the Dwarves. She sighed inwardly while behind her Gandalf led the way up the stairs.

"You are unhurt, _melamin_?" Aragorn asked quietly, appearing at her side. He scanned her quickly with his gaze, as if assuring himself that she was well.

Arwen nodded. "For now."

The Man took her hand in his. "I will not allow harm to come to you,_ melamin_," he whispered. "This I promise."

Tossing her head, and looking him straight in the eye, Arwen replied, "I can take care of myself, thank you very much."

Aragorn smiled. "I know. But if you need me, _melamin_, I am here."

Dropping her hand, Aragorn moved ahead toward the steps.

Grasping her bow tighter, Arwen set off after the others into the darkness.

**Chapter Five  
Unexpected  
**

As much as Arwen had secretly hoped the Wizard had been exaggerating on his estimation of the time it would take to cross through the mines, she quickly learned that her wish was not to come true. A full three days had passed, and still they had not reached the end. Her eyes had become so accustomed to the darkness, and she was beginning to wonder if they would ever again accept the light.

The first day has consisted mostly of narrow bridges carved into the mountain that seemed at first to take them down toward the centre of the earth, before they gradually evened out into a more level path. In the darkness, the journey was fraught with perils, for the road was filled with holes and pit falls, dark wells and fissures and chasms in the walls and floors that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Occasionally, a crack would open at their very feet and they carefully watched one another, quick to catch a companion who might have otherwise fallen into the abyss beneath them.

It was during their first rest that Arwen had realized sleeping would be difficult as well - everything around her was much too quiet. Without the sound of a breeze or unseen animals moving around the perimeter of their encampment, let alone the crackling of a fire and the cheerful camaraderie of the Hobbits - who had been told very sternly by Gandalf to remain silent -- Arwen could not help but feel that someone had locked her away in solitary confinement. She had finally settled for eating another bite of stale bread and taking a swallow of the cordial _miruvor_, which the Wizard had brought from Rivendell, and which thankfully served to both fill and relax her. Aragorn had joined her sometime later, saying nothing, but once more offering his embrace as place of rest. Arwen had happily curled against him, and allowed the rhythmic, soft beating of his heart to lull her to sleep.

The second day of their journey they began climbing upwards. And it did not end.

Hours into it, Arwen was positive that the staircase they ascended would lead them straight into the heavens. They would come out, perched on top of some fluffy clouds and all around below them they would enjoy a panoramic view of Middle-earth. _"What madness had driven the Dwarves to build up, instead of straight through?"_ More than once, Arwen was driven with the desire to kick their Dwarf companion simply because of his relation to the creators of Moria. Her legs cramped several times but she forced herself to ignore the pain and continue on. Fortunately, the climb seemed to even take a bit out of Gandalf, who would occasionally call the party to a halt and they would drop to whichever stair they were on and stare down the hundreds they had already traversed.

They had travelled a few more hours before reaching a landing large enough to make camp. Eating was the last thing on Arwen's mind as she slid down the rock wall. Yawning, she glanced up to see Aragorn coming toward her, his presence ever a beacon in the darkness. He crouched before her, reaching out to run a light caress across her cheek.

"You do not eat, _melamin_."

She smiled. "I do not feel hungry."

"Here. Take some _miruvor_."

Arwen opened her eyes to find Aragorn holding a flask before her. When she opened her mouth obediently, he placed the tip of the container against her tongue and poured some of the liquid into her mouth.

"I have first watch," he told her softly. "Then I will be here. Get some rest, _melamin_."

She nodded, smiling as he moved away and disappeared into the darkness. She was about to close her eyes once more when Pippin appeared beside her and without a word cuddled up against her and closed his eyes to sleep. Not shortly thereafter, Merry followed, curling up next to his friend. Arwen laughed silently to herself, then put an arm around the Hobbits and quickly fell asleep.

Aragorn awoke her and the Hobbits and they started off once again. Higher and higher they climbed. For hours there was only silence and the sounds of their footfalls. The dull stamp of the Dwarf; the barely-noticeable steps of Arwen and Legolas; the patter of four pairs of Hobbit feet; the slow, firm pace of the Men and the brushing of Gandalf's robes across the rock. The rhythm created by the marching of the party soon lulled Arwen into a daydream state; her body moved of its own accord because that was what it was used to doing, while her mind wandered. She remembered Rivendell and the soothing sounds of the falls, the songs of her people drifting through the night. There was a peace among her people that she could not seem to find in the others. While the Hobbits loved life and food and merriment, they were only at peace when these luxuries were given to them. When confronted with the unexpected, all peace was quickly forgotten. As for the Men... Arwen sighed. She had lived around their kind long enough to know that the Human heart was never at peace. There was always more to be had, more to be done, more to be sacrificed for glory and riches. Then again, Men had so little time in the world compared to the Elves. One was born and sent into the world with the immediate purpose of finding complete happiness. And for each individual this differed.

The party stopped. Sighing, Arwen followed the Hobbits up a few more steps to find another small landing, beyond, which there lay no stairs but three doorways. Gandalf stood before them, pondering thoughtfully.

"I have no memory of this place," she heard him comment quietly to himself.

Arwen should have been worried by this comment. Instead, she was happy to take the opportunity to rest. The others seemed inclined to agree, each quickly securing a place to sit and take the burden off of their legs.

Time stretched on. At some point, Arwen had given up attempting to stay awake and leaned against Legolas, resting. Merry and Pippin sat at her feet with Sam, while Boromir and Gimli sat on the other side of the landing. Aragorn stood by, peering into the darkness warily, ever on guard. Frodo seemed restless, looking into the chasm from which they had emerged, gazing at his comrades, then turning to look once more over his shoulder.

"Are we lost?" Arwen heard Pippin whisper.

"No."

"I think we are."

"Shhh. Gandalf's thinking," Merry chided.

"Merry?"

Arwen could almost hear the Hobbit's internal sigh of impatience. "What?"

"I'm hungry."

She smiled. Opening her eyes, Arwen sat up, digging through her pack to find a strip of salted meat. She tapped Pippin on the shoulder and handed it to him. He took it gratefully and began to eat.

"I think you have earned yourself a loyal follower," Legolas whispered into Arwen's ear, his gaze on Pippin.

"He's sweetness personified," she replied.

"Ah! It's that way!"

Gandalf's words snapped Arwen from her reverie and she tore her gaze from Legolas's, looking upward to where Gandalf stood, pointing his staff toward the archway on his left.

"He remembers!" Merry cried, jumping to his feet.

"No," Gandalf corrected. "But this way does not smell so foul." The company climbed the steps to join him, Merry reaching the Wizard first. Gandalf placed his arm around the Hobbit, explaining, "Remember, Meriadoc. When in doubt, always follow your nose."

Arwen fell in line beside Legolas as they began walking -- thankfully -- down the flight of stairs. It was dark, and difficult to see, as they crept along in silence. There were times that she thought she heard scratching noises behind them, movements in the walls. Legolas too, would occasionally cock his head to one side, listening. He apparently felt assured though that all things around them were safe for he made no mention to the others.

The narrow staircase soon opened up and ahead, Gandalf held out his staff, the crystal glowing ever more brightly.

"Behold the great realm and city of the Dwarrowdelf!" The Wizard exclaimed.

Arwen sucked in a sharp breath at the amazing sight before them. As far as the eye could see, columns of rock carved straight from the mountain rose hundreds of feet above them. They were intricately carved, shaped to match one another, perfectly spaced. It was the most amazing accomplishment that Arwen believed she had ever glimpsed and her respect for Gimli's people shot up tenfold. Flashing a smile at the Dwarf, she followed Aragorn down the stairs, her gaze still beholden to the sights that surrounded them.

"Isn't it incredible?" She whispered to him.

"It is too dark, too enclosed," he commented. "I would much prefer to see towering trees and the sky above."

"Only a little further," she told him encouragingly.

Aragorn smiled and brought her hand up to his lips, kissing it softly.

_"A'maelamin_, what a joy you are. Offering me strength when it should be I giving it to you."

She made a face, but said nothing, knowing he was simply being gallant. Certainly she had her misgivings about their journey through the mountain, even Gandalf seemed to fear more than he was saying. But she had not backed down yet and she certainly believed she had more than enough strength to make it through. Perhaps she only needed to prove it to Aragorn. "I've made it this far," she thought to herself, raising her chin defiantly. The rest of the way should be relatively simple.

Arwen was pulled from her musings when Gimli cried out and ran away from the party, heading toward a doorway in the wall that ran to their right. Gandalf yelled out his name but the Dwarf did not seem to notice, disappearing quickly into the room. The party broke into a quick sprint, hurrying after their companion, slowing only when they passed through the archway into a large square chamber. Wisps of dust stirred across the floor as they moved and more corpses, like those they had first glimpsed at the door into Moria, were scattered across the floor. A narrow shaft of light fell across the room from a cut high in the wall above. The light fell across a raised, rectangular slab in the centre of the room. It was before this that Gimli knelt, weeping silently.

Stepping over to it, Gandalf looked over the writing, which was carved into the white stone. "Here lies Balin, Son of Fundin, Lord of Moria." At his pronouncement, the Dwarf cried out once more, his head dropping against the slab in grief. "He is dead then. It is as I feared." The Wizard glanced at the others.

"We must continue on. We cannot linger," Arwen heard Legolas whisper to Aragorn. She stepped nearer to him, watching as Gandalf handed his hat and staff to Pippin, then leaned over to lift a book from the bony fingers of a long-dead Dwarf. Dust rose and the old pages crinkled as the Wizard opened the book and began to read:

"They have taken the Bridge and the second hall. We have barred the gates. We cannot get out. Shadows in the dark. The ground shakes. Drums. Drums in the deep. We cannot get out. They are coming..."

A shiver stole through Arwen at his words, and she inched ever closer to Aragorn, her eyes roaming the silent room around them. Unfortunately, it was at that moment that a Hobbit's curiosity got the best of them. A crack and the sound of something falling drew the entire party's attention to the back of the chamber where Pippin stood near a low well. A skeleton sat at its edge, headless, its skull having toppled back into the pit behind it when the Hobbit had touched it. Soon, the entire corpse began to shake and quickly tumbled backwards, following its head into the well. It was attached to a thick chain, which screeched in protest as it dragged along the rounded wall of rock after the bones to which it was attached. The bucket it was fixed to soon followed.

The sound reverberated throughout the chamber, stretching through the mountain and its caverns, signalling to all that might dwell in its darkest depths that they were not alone. The party as one stood with bated breath, waiting for that moment when they knew their presence was no longer secret. The moments ticked by. Nothing.

Heart in her throat, Arwen glanced over at Legolas and Boromir who stood near, both of whom seemed to collectively let out a breath of relief. Aragorn rolled his eyes and sighed. The Wizard stomped angrily over to Pippin, yanking his hat and staff from the Hobbit.

"Fool of a Took!" He snarled. "Next time throw yourself in and rid us of your stupidity!"

Arwen's heart went out to Pippin, whose expression was one of complete mortification. He hung his head in remorse and she considered going to him to offer comfort, when from the far depths of the mountain, a low drumming began.

"_Dom, Dom, Dom." _

The drumming echoed around them, swelling up from the very depths of the mountain.

"_Dom, Dom, Dom." _

_"Yrch!"_ Arwen hissed beside Legolas and he followed her gaze to see Frodo's sword gleaming blue in his sheath. Everyone drew their weapons, preparing for battle, while Aragorn instructed the Hobbits to stay by Gandalf. Boromir ran for the doors, peering out into the hall as two arrows shot past him, thudding into the door. He ducked back in, pushing the doors closed as Legolas ran up beside him to help.

"Help Gandalf guard the Hobbits," Aragorn told Arwen, pushing her in the direction of the Wizard before running to help Legolas and Boromir.

"They have a cave troll," Boromir commented dismally as he closed the doors.

In a flash, Arwen wandered over to where the Hobbits stood; their eyes round as saucers. Outside the doors a high-pitched screeching could be heard, in the distance, a dull roar. The moment they got the room secured, the Orcs arrived and began pounding away at the doors. Unfortunately, they were comprised of wood -- old wood that was rotting and unsteady -- and the barricade quickly began to fall away. Legolas shot a perfect arrow through the first hole and the strangled death cry of an Orc could be heard. This only seemed to increase the fury of the others, and the pounding reached a new height.

Arwen waited for the door to give way. The Hobbits beside her drew their swords and looked worriedly at the rotten door.

The doors burst open and the creatures rushed inside, those in front instantly plucked off by Legolas and Aragorn's arrows. The high-pitched wailing of the dark creatures before her grew in pitch. They were hairless and grey, like rotted and decomposing beings come to life. Their teeth were sharp and pointed and they attacked in frenzy, without plan or thought beyond that of mayhem and death.

A loud roar outside the chamber and Arwen looked up just in time to see the entire doorway swept away as an enormous creature, grey and ogre-like in appearance, burst into the room.

She un-sheathed her sword and started to fight as around her the battle continued. She watched as the cave troll mindlessly swept creatures and rocks aside as he moved the room, having no care as to whether they were Orcs or Dwarves or Hobbits.

Her gaze swept the room, searching for Legolas. Relief swept over her when she found him standing tall, firing his bow with a rapidity that was barely noticeable to the naked eye. Out of the corner of her gaze though, she glimpsed an Orc running toward him from behind, an axe rose to strike. Without thought, Arwen sliced off the Orc's head that she had been fighting and ran for the fell creature. She reached Legolas just in time, bringing her sword up to intercept the blow as the axe came down toward his head.

She fell onto her back on the floor as the axe connected with her sword. She kicked the Orc in the stomach and did a flip back onto her feet. With one swipe of her sword, she cut off the Orc's arm. It screamed in agony and dropped the axe. As the Orc dropped it, she slashed off his head.

Now that she was in it, Arwen barely had time to turn around when another Orc came at her. This one had a sword as well and she fought to keep from thinking too hard about what she was doing as blow after blow reigned down against her weapon. She reacted without thought, meeting each thrust, swinging up to block each strike, twisting to the side to oppose every swipe. She had an advantage of speed and quick footing, and therefore used this to move around the Orc, confusing it. Raising her sword high over her shoulder, Arwen brought the weapon back down like a scythe, slicing the creature through its back. It cried out as black blood spurted from the gaping wound and fell to the floor.

Arwen was immediately attacked by two more Orcs and quickly put on the defensive. They drove her back, ringing blow after blow upon her sword until her arms began to protest under the onslaught. She knew she would not hold out much longer when Gimli suddenly appeared at her side, hacking away at the legs of one of her attackers. Heaving a grateful sigh, Arwen was able to turn her full concentration on the other and soon severed his head from his shoulders. Forcing herself not to think about it, she chased after Gimli back towards the centre of the room, jumping into the skirmish where a few Orcs still stood.

"Frodo!"

The cry pulled the attention of all, and Arwen turned, her heart wrenching inside of her at the sight of the cave troll's spear sticking out from Frodo's side. She heard Merry and Pippin scream in rage and looked up in time to see them leap from the wall where they had huddled onto the creature's head, pounding their swords into his skull. Marshalled by the grim thought of Frodo's death, Arwen rushed toward the creature, Gimli once more at her side, and they both began to hack away at its legs, darting swiftly to and fro as it attempted to step on them. It knocked Gimli out of the way and Arwen ducked just in time as its large hand swept toward her. It reached its hand up, grabbing hold of Merry, swinging him around as the Hobbit screamed and then tossing him to the floor.

"Arwen! Stay down!" Legolas shouted.

She did as told, though she wanted to know if Merry was alright, her gaze moving to Legolas, watching as he took aim, firing an arrow into the creature's mouth. The troll seemed to stop, then stumble, wavering in place, the expression on its face clearly stating that it did not expect to be brought down. Legolas grabbed hold of Arwen, sweeping her out of the way as the troll crashed to the floor, Pippin falling hard with a cry.

Silence descended over the chamber.

Scrambling out of Legolas's grasp, Arwen hurried over to where Pippin lay, gently helping him to sit up. Once she was certain he was unharmed she picked up her cloak and moved over to Merry, checking him in the same manner. Legolas followed behind, his gaze never straying from her. Positive that they were both well, Arwen allowed Legolas to take her hand and pull her up, leading her to where the others gathered around Frodo.

"He was alive!"

"I'm alright," he told them, sitting up, staring around blankly as if surprised as to how he had come to be there.

"You should be dead. That spear would have skewered a wild boar," Aragorn commented, relief evident in his voice.

Gandalf smiled. "I think there is more to this Hobbit than meets the eye."

They all watched as Frodo parted the folds of his shirt, revealing beneath it a vest made of the brightest silver and gold. Arwen cocked her head slightly to the side and smiled.

_"Mithril,"_ Gimli breathed in awe in front of her. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins."

The screeching of the Orcs reached their ears once more. The walls shook. Gandalf turned to the others:

"To the bridge of K'hazadum!"

Aragorn grabbed Arwen's hand and pulled her along as they raced out of the chamber and back into the enormous structure of Dwarrowdelf. Gandalf led with Boromir, Legolas and Gimli close behind him, the Hobbits following with Arwen and Aragorn bringing up the rear. They all still held weapons at the ready, knowing that they would most likely need them again soon. It was too much to hope that they would reach the bridge without being rediscovered.

The eerie screeching began once more, and seemed to swell up and down around them. Arwen felt Aragorn squeeze her hand as they ran and she glanced his direction.

_"Rima!_ (Run!) Don't look back," he told her without breaking stride.

Orcs were closing in on them, pouring out from the darkness of the mountain. Hundreds gathered, chasing them. They began streaming in from overhead, climbing down the rising columns like spiders. They appeared from everywhere - cracks in the floor and fissures in the walls. They surrounded the Fellowship; closing them in ever more tightly like a pack of wolves circling their quarry. There quickly became nowhere left to run and the company came to a halt, protecting one another's backs, their weapons at the ready.

Arwen squeezed in between Boromir and Legolas. There were hundreds of Orcs around them, many more than they would ever defeat, no matter how quick Legolas' bow or how fiercely Boromir and Aragorn fought. To fight would have been futile and each member of the Fellowship knew it. But that did not mean they would not do so. Even Arwen knew that she would much prefer to take a few of the nasty creatures out with her, than to go down without at least attempting to survive. Much later she would be able to acknowledge that this feeling stemmed from the pure adrenalin that was pumping through her, but for the moment she knew only that she wanted to live.

A sudden tremor echoed through the depths of the halls. The Orcs before them dropped into silence and then began chattering excitedly once more, though the sound seemed to stem more from fear than bloodlust. Arwen prepared herself for their charge, clasping her sword tightly in her hand. But instead of rushing them, the Orcs began retreating. Disappearing back into the depths of the mountain, they dispersed as quickly as they had appeared. The ground beneath their feet rumbled and shook.

Slowly, the gazes of the company turned to the left, down a great hallway. Another tremor. A bright, blazing light stirred from the depths of the darkness.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asked in a hushed voice behind them.

Arwen was still trying to grasp how they had survived their recent predicament. A little light and trembling of the earth did not faze her at the moment. Not until she heard the obvious concern in the Wizard's voice as he replied:

"A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world."

Glancing beside her, Arwen noticed that even Legolas seemed to pale at Gandalf's words. She felt Aragorn take her hand.

"This foe is beyond any of you. Run!" Gandalf shouted.

Arwen barely had time to put her sword back in its sheath as Aragorn broke into a sprint, pulling her along beside him. Behind them, the walls and floor continued to tremble. A roar, like the sound of a blazing inferno, pulsed through the mountain.

The Balrog was coming.

**Chapter Six  
Unbecoming  
**

Racing through an archway, Aragorn and Arwen followed Boromir who led the company out of the realm of Dwarrowdelf. Behind them, the roaring continued to echo through the caverns, growing ever nearer. The ground and walls shook, cracks thundering through the rock as the foundations around them began to falter and crumble. Legolas suddenly raced forward down the steps. Arwen was about to call out to him when she realized why he had raced away - the staircase they were descending suddenly ended and Boromir was swaying unsteadily at the edge. Legolas got to him just in time to wrap a secure arm around his waist and pull the big Man back. Arwen stopped a few steps from the edge, glancing to her right where another staircase led outward. As the others came up behind her, she directed them that way, stepping aside as Boromir hurried past then quickly followed, with Legolas close on her heels.

Enormous fissures were appearing in the staircase that they descended. It made their movement treacherous, especially without the security of walls on either side of them. Legolas moved ahead, leading the group with his sure footing. Arwen glanced quickly over her shoulder as the archway through which they had just exited trembled, cracked and began to crumble. She turned back just in time to see the others come up short.

A considerable breach, a good seven feet wide, lay in their path.

Legolas leapt across it, almost easily, and then turned. Gandalf reached out to her, pulling her down the stairs, his gaze drifting back as another roar echoed throughout the cavern.

"Arwen!" Legolas called out to her. _"Tula!"_

Taking a deep breath, Arwen jumped. For a moment she sailed through the air, then she felt her body fall against his, his arms wrapping around her, securing her footing before setting her behind him and calling to Gandalf.

Arwen watched anxiously for the Wizard to make it across when an arrow suddenly slammed into the steps at the feet of the others. Turning, she saw the walls around them begin to fill with Orcs, archers preparing to take aim. Legolas grabbed his bow and sent an arrow flying, hitting their first attacker in the forehead. He then turned to her.

"Arwen, cover me while I get the rest of them across."

Arwen did as instructed; she pulled an arrow from her quiver, then notching it onto the bow. She took aim and fired. _Wham_! An arrow plunged into one of the archer's stomachs. She continued to fire with accuracy, stopping the volley that was being sent toward them while the others crossed the gap. A deep crack and rumbling drew her attention away from her work and she watched in muted shock as the first set of steps where Frodo and Aragorn still stood - the only ones who had not crossed - fell away. The gap widened, almost tripling. They would never make it across.

The rest of the company seemed to follow her line of thinking, for all stood in silence, staring at the gap that stretched between them and their comrades. Above them, the roaring of the Balrog drew ever closer. More rock cracked, crumbling away from the mountainside. An enormous boulder broke away from above them, striking the stairs behind Aragorn and Frodo, effectively sealing them off from escape.

As well as loosening the section they were on.

It began to teeter dangerously, preparing to break away into the chasm below. Aragorn grabbed hold of Frodo, steadying the Hobbit, calling something to him that in the din Arwen could not make out. Arwen pushed past Boromir to stand on the edge. Aragorn and Frodo leaned forward and the precarious ledge they stood on moved with them, tumbling fast toward the others. Legolas and Arwen reached out, grabbing hold of the Hobbit and Man as the falling ledge slammed into their own, then crumpled and fell away.

Aragorn grabbed Arwen and pushed her ahead, holding her by the elbow as he followed behind, as if assuring both himself and her that she would remain by his side. They flew down the last hundred steps, finally reaching another floor, to which Gandalf pointed and shouted, making it known that the bridge was just ahead. The Wizard urged the others on, Boromir leading the way across the narrow passage, followed by the Hobbits, Gimli, Aragorn, Arwen – who was repeatedly telling herself not to look down – and Legolas.

Gandalf came to a stop halfway across the bridge, turning back to face the approaching demon. Arwen's heart was slamming into her chest as she watched him. Something was wrong. The Wizard was not going to make it. She suddenly knew this; knew it for a certainty. And she made to go back to him, to tell him to get away from there but Aragorn grabbed her before she could get away.

The demon stepped closer to the Wizard, flailing his flaming whip through the air. The Wizard spoke:

"You cannot pass!"

The demon roared out over the chamber.

"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the Flame of Arnor. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Undun. Go back to the shadow. _YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"_

Gandalf brought his sword and staff down and a loud crack followed by a bright light extended throughout the cavern. The demon roared angrily, almost laughing at the being before him, then took a step out onto the bridge. Immediately it crumbled beneath him, tossing the ancient world creature into the fiery chasm below. It cried out as it fell and Arwen felt a brief wave of relief roll through her. Until the unthinkable happened.

The demon's whip snapped up out of the abyss, wrapping itself around Gandalf's ankle and yanking him backwards, towards the edge of the destroyed bridge. Arwen and Frodo both screamed out Gandalf's name. Boromir grabbed the Hobbit as he tried to run for the Wizard, lifting him into his arms and carrying him up the steps. Even Aragorn seemed to hesitate in indecision, tempted to run towards the bridge. Later, Arwen would remember little of those moments. Her gaze swept to the Wizard's as he slowly lost his grasp on the stone.

"Fly, you fools!" He cried out then slipped off into the abyss.

Boromir was calling for Aragorn and Arwen to follow as the Man carried the Hobbit. Arwen steeled her emotions and followed Aragorn. The company raced out of the tunnel of the mines of Moria and into the light of the day.

The moment they exited the darkness, Arwen broke free from Aragorn's grasp, stumbling as she ran a short distance away.

Aragorn watched in silent pain as the others broke down around him. Gandalf had been their leader. Now it was left to him. He wanted to grieve, wanted to give over as the others were, but he could not. _Not now_. Once nightfall came upon them, the Orcs would appear. _They had to reach Lothlorien safety_. It was time that he stepped into position of leader, if only for the moment.

Turning, he cast his gaze to Legolas and was surprised to see even he seemed unable to accept the death of the Wizard. Knowing that Legolas would, in part, have to be a piece of his own strength, he called out:

"Legolas! Get them up."

He glanced at the Ranger, at first not quite hearing his words. Then he understood and nodded.

Aragorn glanced around. Arwen had walked a short distance away, staring out over the vast expanse of mountain. He decided to leave her for the moment; he could give her more attention once they started on their way. Moving over to the Hobbit, he gingerly reached out and touched Merry's shoulder. Pippin still lay within his arms, sobbing.

"Give them a moment," Boromir cried out. "For pity's sake."

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs," Aragorn explained, wishing he could give them all a moment, knowing he could not. "We must make for the woods of Lothlorien."

Arwen heard what he said; and her mind focused on what they must do now.

Calmly, she wiped the tears away from her eyes, and kept looking out over the mountains. Aragorn slowly walked up behind her and put his arms around her waist. They both gazed out the horizon, saying a silent farewell to Gandalf in their own fashion.

After, a while, she slowly removed herself from Aragorn's hold and turned around. Most of the group were standing, but Pippin remained glued to the ground. She walked up to him.

"On your feet, Pippin. We'll lose them if you stay there."

The Hobbit did not move, but stayed sitting down. Arwen glanced up and saw the rest of the group looking at them; then turned her attention back to Pippin. She knelt down in front of him.

"Pippin, listen to me. We must continue on our journey. Gandalf will be all right. Remember, he's a Wizard. Wizards can do amazing things when they set their minds to it. "

Pippin looked up at her and nodded. She took his hand; picked him up and walked over to the others. Aragorn came over to her and patted her shoulder.

They followed the others and eventually Aragorn left her side to move up the line to Legolas. The Ranger glanced back at her once more then turned his attention to Legolas. Arwen slowly relaxed, still carrying Pippin. Within moments, Merry joined her and she held his hand and they walked on silently, offering one another comfort they did not have the heart to speak.

The sun was slowly beginning to set when they reached an open field. Motioning that they needed to make haste, Aragorn broke into a run at the front of the Fellowship and the rest followed. The woods were only a few hundred yards away and Arwen knew they would be safe once they reached them.

Entering the wood, Arwen slowed to a walk, her gaze taking in the area surrounding them. The trees, grey and towering, were ancient; they had witnessed the beginnings of the ages. Up ahead, Gimli was telling Frodo to stay close, that a great Elf Witch lived within these woods. Arwen frowned within herself at the Dwarf's words.

"_Arwen..._"

Arwen momentarily stopped in her tracks. She gazed around. The voice was familiar to her. Almost holding her breath, she continued to listen.

_"Melamin?"_ Aragorn was standing before her, his gaze concerned. "Are you all right?"

"Yes."

She took another step.

"_It has been too long, Arwen..._"

The words reverberated through her mind, sending shock waves down her spine, pinning her where she stood. She suddenly knew whom the voice belonged to. A blinding pain seized her head, pushing down her neck and into her back. She heard Aragorn called out her name only moments before darkness descended.

"I think she's waking up..."

"Well, don't crowd her, Pippin. Give her some air!"

"Arwen? Can you hear me? It's Pip."

She felt a tiny hand slapping her cheek, surprisingly hard. In fact, her skin was beginning to sting. She pushed the hand away in annoyance, moaning softly at the throbbing that still beat against her forehead.

"See! She is waking up!"

"Pippin, do stop screaming in her ear... Poor Arwen."

"Will you both stop talking about me like I'm not here?" She asked perturbed, then regretted speaking at all. Blinking her eyes open, she was pleased to see that dusk had fallen and the trees overhead seemed to shade most of the twilight sky. Rubbing a hand over her eyes, Arwen slowly attempted to sit up, Merry and Pippin helping her to do so. "What happened?"

"You fainted," Pippin replied.

"I don't faint," Arwen tossed back with a frown.

"But you did!" Merry insisted. "We were walking through the forest and you fainted and Aragorn caught you -- "

"But just as he did these Elves appeared and pointed arrows at us," Pippin joined in. "And they brought us here."

"The Realm of the Lady of the Wood," Pippin whispered. "We met her a little while ago. They brought you here to rest –"

Arwen stared at them both for a long moment, her memories slowly creeping back. She looked at them both for a while.

"I'm sorry, Arwen," Pippin said miserably. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I think so." Arwen rose to her feet and looked around. "Where is Aragorn?"

"He was here earlier," Merry told her. "He brought us some wine, checked on your condition and then disappeared."

"Would you like something to eat?" Merry asked quietly at her side.

She shook her head. Her hands burned; the cuts from the rock had become dirty and infected. Arwen grimaced at the sight of the dried Orc's blood that yet remained on her skin and clothing.

"Arwen?" Pippin started to follow Arwen as she quietly moved from the shelter.

Merry stopped him. "Let her go. She will be safe for now."

Noticing the Hobbit's concern for her regard, Arwen turned around and smiled at him; then wandered off across the glade, taking in the beauty that surrounded her.

Glancing up, Arwen slowly began to take in her surroundings. The trees around her looked as they had when the Fellowship had first entered the forest – ancient, foreboding. But they also seemed covered in light, alive and warm. In fact, everything around her appeared filled with light; stars seemed to wink within the leaves of the foliage. The air was filled with the light scent of floral and soft voices raised in Elven song danced on the wind. Finding a spot just on the edge of the trees, Arwen sank down to the ground and, closing her eyes, attempted to find some of the peace and solace she knew encapsulated the realm around her.

_"Melamin?"_ Arwen started, opening her eyes to find Aragorn kneeling down before her. In the faint light his eyes glowed like the night sky reflected in dark waters. "Are you all right?"

"I don't know." She looked away from his steady blue gaze, worrying her lower lip. "I just... so much has happened and I guess it is all hitting me at once. The battle in the mines... I thought I would let you all down --"

_"Lle Ume quell, melamin_,"(You did well) he told her.

"Not at first." She paused, taking a deep breath.

Aragorn flashed the hint of a smile she did not see.

_"A'maelamin,"_ he whispered the word, brushing his hand over her cheek, into her hair. He caressed her in that manner for a long while, watching as she visibly relaxed beneath his touch.

Arwen turned her gaze to his, searching for a moment, wondering what he knew. She nodded. "Yes. I should have known... " She stopped herself, knowing she could not admit that there was a time she knew where their journey would take them and what dangers it would be fraught with.

"Shhh." Aragorn placed a slim finger against her lips, silencing her. "Your mind is consumed with this and I have allowed it to continue for far too long." He stood suddenly, his figure unfolding gracefully before her in one supple move. He held a hand out to her. _"Tula, melamin."_

Arwen trustingly placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her to her feet. He pulled her close, one hand lingering at her waist while the other lay against her cheek. Lifting the hand he held, he turned it over, palm up, and placed a delicate kiss against the ravaged skin. She sighed at the touch and Aragorn smiled softly. He leaned over her and she was overwhelmed by the scent of fresh rain, flowers and fertile earth. Aragorn locked her gaze with his own and the fire she saw burning there startled her. She trembled as his lips barely brushed across her own.

He stepped back and Arwen was certain she did not have the strength to hold herself, but he clasped her hand once more in his own, and tugging lightly, led her deeper into the woods.

**Chapter Seven  
Amin Lava**

Arwen remained silent as Aragorn led her deeper into the wood. So much had happened in the past week that they had little time to themselves, especially in the mines when they all had to remain alert.

Aragorn came to a halt, glancing over his shoulder at her; then pulling her beside him. He lifted the branches that lay in the way before them, inclining his head forward. "Go on, _melamin_."

Removing her hand from his, Arwen stooped under the branches he held and moved forward, her eyes widening as she scanned the glade that opened before her. Walled in by the mysterious and ancient trees, a small hot spring sent steam drifting into the air from the centre of the glade, surrounded by rock, a carpeted floor of white and purple flowers, moss, ivy and ferns. A canopy of stars hung above them and moonlight reflected off the water and leaves, making all appear to be touched by something magical and enchanted. Somewhere, off in the distance, came the sound of the Elves voices raised in song.

"Aragorn," Arwen breathed. "_Ta vanima_ (It's beautiful)

They both walked forward and Aragorn stepped away from her as she stood there for a moment, taking it all in. "I've stayed away too long," Arwen whispered to herself. She turned around.

"_Tula sinome,"_ Aragorn told her, drawing her to him where he sat on a rock by the pool.

Pulling her onto his lap, he lifted her right hand into his, kissing the palm, before tenderly caressing his thumb across the skin, working the dirt and infection loose. Arwen sighed as the pain fled from her, resting her head at the crook of his shoulder as he moved on to her left palm, soothing it just as he had done its twin.

As he stroked her hand, Arwen's eyes slowly began to droop. Very soon she had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder.

Aragorn looked at her and realized she was asleep. He touched her face, tracing the dark circles that lay beneath her eyes, silently berating himself for not appreciating how exhausted she had been long before Moria. Kissing her face, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her to where he knew they could rest together peacefully the rest of the night.

Arwen dreamt of home.

She saw her family and friends. She smelled the freshness of summer in Rivendell and saw herself riding her favourite black and white horses, Withradil and Asfaloth, in the valley near her home.

With a sigh, Arwen opened her eyes. Above her leaf-filled branches swayed in the breeze, making the stars beyond appear to dance in the sky. She was wrapped in a warm blanket, her head resting on a fluffy pillow. The last she remembered was the hot spring and Aragorn...

A heated flush crept across her cheeks as the memory swept over her. She had never gotten so carried away before and... She bit back the smile that threatened to steal across her face.

"You're awake, _melamin_."

Arwen turned her head to find Aragorn laying beside her, leaning on his elbow, head propped in his hand. He smiled when their eyes met and she felt herself blush once more. He noticed the heightened colour in her cheeks and laughed softly, leaning over to press a light kiss on her brow.

Arwen asked, "Where are we?"

"In a _talan_. High in the trees, away from the scrutiny of others."

"How did you get me up here?" She glanced over at him, lying there watching her.

"I have my ways," Aragorn smiled and she realized he was teasing her. It was a relaxed and playful side of him she had not the chance before to glimpse.

Crawling back over to him, she sat at his side, reaching out to run her fingers over his chest, tracing the contours set within the skin. "How long was I asleep?"

"Not long," he replied, sitting up to catch her lips in a gentle kiss. She sighed into his mouth, thinking there was no greater pleasure in the world than being touched by him.

Leaning her head against his shoulder, Arwen commented, "Merry and Pippin must wonder where I am."

"Let them wonder." Aragorn wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. "I care not. Men are not prone to sharing."

Arwen laughed at that and he thought it the sweetest sound in all of Middle-Earth.

"_Lle lalaith vanima."_ (Your laughter is beautiful)

She laughed again, shaking her head. "If you were an Elf I would tell you that those compliments aren't needed. I've already succumbed."

He glanced at her quizzically. "I do not understand."

"Which is why it doesn't need to be said."

She sat up and kissed his cheek. With that, she pulled away and lay back against the pillow, watching Aragorn as he watched her.

"_Ten'oio, Aragorn_," Arwen said. She reached up to trace her fingertips across his mouth, caressed his cheek. In his gaze she saw more love than she had ever imagined possible. "For as long as I live, _melamin_, for as long as you will have me, I will remain at your side."

Aragorn bent his head down and kissed her, gently, deeply, conveying with actions what he could not put into words. He laid her back against the flet, held her tightly within his arms, and loved her with all the tenderness and need that he felt welling up inside of him.

"_Amin mela lle, Arwen Undomiel_," (I love you) he whispered in the darkness, after the tremors had ceased and his breathing had once more calmed.

Arwen smiled up at him, tucking a strand of brown hair behind his ear. _"Amin mela lle, Aragorn, son of Arathorn." _

Wrapped together in a haze of love, they fell asleep, safe beneath the canopy of stars.

**Chapter Eight  
Moments  
**

Arwen next awoke when the sun was high in the sky above her. She stretched contentedly, her body filled with that deliciously languorous feeling of having been well and thoroughly loved. Wrapping the blanket around her, Arwen sat up only to find that she was alone on the talan. She was momentarily disappointed that Aragorn was not there to greet her with a 'good morning', then glanced to her right to find a small plate of fruit set out. Smiling, she grabbed a shiny red apple, biting into it hungrily, then crawled her way over to the edge of the platform and sat with her legs dangling over the edge, examining the forest around her, while she ate.

Perhaps it was because of the events of the night before and she was just in a particularly happy mood, but everything around her seemed to be coloured with beauty and peace. The white of the blossoms was brighter than any she had ever seen and the birds that called out as they flew by overhead carried the sweetest of tunes. Of course, she was in the middle of an Elvish realm, to be more accurate, she was in the land ruled by her grandparents, Galadriel and Celeborn. According to Legolas, it was even more beautiful than Rivendell.

Licking the last of the apple's juice off of her fingers, Arwen returned to the present, and jumped off of the bed. She quickly found her clothes and dressed. She then strapped on her sword and quiver and picked up her bow.

After eating another apple, Arwen quickly descended a ladder that led down from the talan to the forest floor. She began meandering her way through the woods, hoping she was going the right direction to lead her back to where the Fellowship had been given shelter. She hummed softly to herself, stopping here and there to gaze at the beauty of the trees and ferns and flowers around her.

Breaking through the trees, Arwen finally stepped out into the glade she remembered from the night before, only it was brighter, more cheerful, and free of the gloom that seemed to permeate it earlier. Merry and Pippin were sitting near a fountain, eating what she assumed was their second breakfast, when the younger Hobbit looked up and saw her.

"Arwen!" He smiled and waved her over. "We were worried about you!"

"He was worried about you," Merry corrected, nodding his head in Pippin's direction. "I knew you were safe."

Fiddling with a stray curl, Arwen turned her attention to Pippin, preferring his naiveté to Merry's pointed observation. "My people are keeping you fed, I see."

"They've been wonderfully accommodating," Pippin agreed. "Wouldn't you say so, Merry?"

"Terribly so," his friend nodded, turning his consideration back to his breakfast. "Would you like to join us?"

"No. I ate. Thanks." Arwen glanced around the glade, searching for Aragorn.

"Arwen."

Starting out of her reverie, Arwen turned to find Aragorn approaching. She took a deep breath before finally moving to meet him with a smile.

"You look well," he said with a smile when she stopped before him. He nodded to the right, indicating that she follow him, and offered her his hand. As she took his hand, Aragorn asked, "How do you feel?"

"Rested. Fed. Basically a new person." She added a cheery smile. Casting a glance to the Man beside her, she worried her lower lip for a moment, then said, "About yesterday - "

Aragorn waved his hand, interrupting her. "I would rather not discuss that. It was a difficult time for all of us and... " He trailed off, sighing heavily. Rubbing the back of his neck as if to relieve tension, he turned to meet her gaze. Seeing the cheeky look in her eyes, he reached over and tickled her. She let out a shriek; then laughed good-naturedly at the sound of running feet.

"You scared Merry and Pippin. Now they're coming to see what's the matter."

Aragorn smiled and said, "You better stop them before they jump on me."

She returned the smile.

Aragorn gazed into Arwen's eyes and pulled her close to him. Arwen rested her head on his chest and sighed. Aragorn put his arms and rested his chin on her head.

After they had stood there a while, Aragorn grasped Arwen's hand and pulled her deeper into the forest.

They joined the rest of the Fellowship just in time for supper. Either because of the rest they had all experienced or the simple peace that surrounded them in the realm of Lothlorien, every member seemed at ease and open throughout the meal. Arwen spent the time laughing with the Hobbits, even sharing a few moments with Frodo and Sam, discussing the Shire and Hobbiton. There were no recriminations over what occurred at Moria, nor any talk whatsoever of their impending journey. Even Legolas and Boromir appeared to relax, allowing smiles at Merry and Pippin's descriptions of what they had seen and done throughout the day. Arwen found herself silently wondering if either Hobbit would ever be allowed in Lorien again, but she laughed and ruffled Pippin's hair and told him what he deserved was a good spanking. The entire party laughed even harder when Pippin, with a wicked grin, agreed with her.

She and Aragorn spoke little throughout the meal, though he remained at her side and she knew his attention was always focused on her. Occasionally, there would be a casual brush of arm against arm or thigh against thigh and Arwen would quickly lose all recollection of what she was currently discussing. If the others noticed her distraction, they made no mention of it. In fact, though she was certain they all knew of the relationship shared between her and Aragorn, Arwen was pleased to discover that she sensed no condemnation extended toward them.

Except for Boromir. She could not have explained if her life had depended on it, but all throughout the meal, Arwen felt him watching her, watching Aragorn. Occasionally his eyes would wander back to whoever was speaking and he would laugh appropriately or offer a word or two to the conversation. Without fail though, his attention would wander back to her and she felt herself quickly becoming restless under his watchful gaze. Arwen wanted to ask him what his problem was but she knew better than to confront him in front of the others.

When the food had diminished and the laughter died down, Aragorn finally stood and offered his hand to Arwen. She smiled, took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet and lead her back toward the woods. Out of the corner of her eyes though, Arwen caught Boromir watching them from where he stood, leaning against a mallorn tree. She hesitated and Aragorn stopped, turning his gaze to her.

_"Mani naa ta, melamin?"_ (What is it, my love)

She glanced toward Boromir, and then smiled back at Aragorn_. "Amin merna quen yassen Boromir."_ (I wish to speak with Boromir) _"Amin yanwuva rato."_ (I will join you soon)

_"Manka lle merna, Arwen."_ (If you wish) Aragorn leaned over and kissed her cheek softly. Then, as he began to pull away, he seemed to rethink that action, leaning toward her once more, nuzzling his face against her neck. _"Amin feithuva, tarienamin."_ (I will be waiting, my Princess)

His skin and breath were warm and as Aragorn moved away and disappeared quickly into the trees, Arwen regretted not going with him. He set her heart beating wildly with just a word. She shook her head with a sigh. Turning, she headed toward Boromir, worrying her lower lip as she approached the Man.

He said nothing as she drew near, simply watched her silently, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was... mocking? It was difficult to discern.

"Is everything all right, Boromir?" Arwen asked him, searching his features for any visible signs of his mood.

"Fine. Should they be otherwise?"

"No. I... " She broke off, looking out into the woods, now really wishing she had gone with Aragorn. Perhaps she was imagining things. She glanced back at him. "You just seemed... well through supper it appeared that perhaps you wanted to say something to me."

"Did it?" Boromir frowned. "I am surprised you noticed much of anything."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged.

Realizing she was getting nowhere, Arwen moved to leave.

"It's impossible, you know," he called out before she took more than a few steps.

Arwen turned back to him. "What is?"

"You are making a fool of yourself. His infatuation with you will not last."

"_Ah. Aragorn."_ Arwen shook her head. "I don't see that this is any of your business, Boromir. And even if it were, you do not know what is in either my heart or Aragorn's."

"He is a Ranger," Boromir replied, pushing away from the tree to step up to her.

"I am very well aware of that, Boromir."

"He does not deserve you."

"I don't have to listen to this," Arwen snapped, pushing past him.

Boromir grabbed her arm, pulling her round to face him. "I don't want to see you hurt, Arwen. Please?"

"What is it to you if I am hurt or not? My feelings for Aragorn are none of your business," she told him, her eyes flashing angrily, though the threat of tears burned at the back of her lids. "What does it matter to you if I am happy or not? That is my choice."

"I... " Boromir hesitated for a moment, as if fighting for the words he wanted to speak. Bringing his hand up, he captured a dark curl between his fingers, stroked it softly. He lifted his eyes to meet hers. "I could promise you a life of glory, Arwen."

Arwen's eyes widened in surprise. She sighed, shaking her head. "Boromir - "

"Gondor needs strong women like you," he insisted. "I know I could make you happy! And you would love the White City. It would love you - "

"Boromir, stop!" Arwen pushed away from him, her expression disbelieving. "Why are you doing this?"

"You behave as if I am hurting you in some way," Boromir accused. "That is far from my intention."

"Is it?" Arwen turned away, wishing more than ever that she had gone with Aragorn. "Boromir." She looked over her shoulder at him. "I love Aragorn. I will die loving him, be it at his side or no. Could you accept that?

"So you would choose a peaceful life instead of a glorious and exciting one?" The Man demanded, taking another, almost pleading step toward her.

"For true happiness?" She replied, a smile playing at her lips. "Yes, Boromir."

"I do not understand you."

"I know." Arwen reached out and touched his hand. "Forgive my heart, Boromir. And do not hold Aragorn to blame."

Unfortunately, Arwen found the thought of returning to Aragorn with the doubts that Boromir had surfaced in her heart difficult. She wandered around the woods for over an hour, trying to still the silent questions in her mind, wanting to return to him with her heart and mind free from worry. He deserved no less from her. It was when her feet unconsciously brought her to the base of the mallorn tree where the talan was located that Arwen realized she could not run from her fears.

Climbing nimbly up the rope ladder, Arwen pulled herself up on to the platform to find Aragorn stretched out across the blankets, head cradled in his arms, staring up at the night sky. His gaze turned to her as she appeared over the ledge.

"I thought perhaps you had changed your mind," he admitted softly.

_"Amin hiraetha, Aragorn_. (I'm sorry) Mentally kicking herself for not coming to him immediately, Arwen moved over to him, kneeling beside him and leaning over to brush a kiss across his brow. "Time slips away from me in this place."

He said nothing, but continued to watch her steadily. Arwen had left her hair tied up that day, but now she let it down, the thick dark tresses hanging to her waist, like glorious flames of fire clinging to her shoulders. He had wanted to love her throughout the afternoon and evening, take her to heights of ecstasy that she did not yet understand were possible. But he knew her mind well. He would not willingly cause her any amount of discomfort. It was because of this that he had made certain they tarried over supper with the others, so that Arwen could feel comfortable among the other members of the Fellowship while he was also at her side. Later, when she became used to the idea of the bond shared between them and allowing others to delight in it as well, then he would be free to love her morning, noon and night as she deserved.

Unfortunately, the Elf who now sat before him was troubled, though she tried valiantly not to let it show. Aragorn felt it as keenly as he would have felt a flame against his skin. He wanted to know what Boromir had said to her, but he would not ask. If she wished to share with him the contents of their conversation then she would do so. In her own time. Until then, it was up to Aragorn to make her forget whatever it was that clouded the sparkle he longed to see once more in her oak-brown eyes.

_"Miqula'amin, melamin,"_ (Kiss me, my love) Aragorn commanded quietly.

With a soft smile, Arwen leaned over him and did as he bid her. He was reticent beneath her, gently forcing her to take the dominant role. She seemed to warm to his malleability immediately, her kiss becoming more insistent, her tongue pushing past his lips to tease his own before retreating. Arwen's hands cupped his face, lifting him to her, holding him still, bending him to what she desired. Aragorn's hands ached to touch her, to bury themselves in her curls, to pull her beneath him, but he forced himself to remain still.

Aragorn smiled. "Do you doubt me?"

"Never."

"Then silence your fears... and let me love you, _melamin."_

**Chapter Nine  
Shards of Glass  
**

The next few weeks passed in a haze of blessed euphoria. Arwen and Aragorn continued to share their meals with the Fellowship. After breakfast, they would explore the realm of Lorien, sometimes spending time with the Galadhrim, or choosing to wander the woods on their own, talking, sharing tales or simply spending the time together in silence.

The nights were for Arwen and Aragorn. They spent this time in seclusion, forgetting about the world and its troubles around them, laughing, sharing their dreams and hopes, loving one another until little else existed. Late at night, after a bath in the spring together, when Aragorn would gently brush out the tangles in her hair until it shone with the starlight.

Every moment Arwen spent with him, Aragorn seemed to teach her something new about love and being loved. And every night he took her to heights she did not believe possible. They explored and learned of one another completely, until they reached the point where it was difficult to delineate where one began and the other ended. Arwen knew that when she found Aragorn staring up at the sky late at night, it was best to simply go to him, wrap her arms around him and sit there with him quietly until he turned to her in need. She learned what it took to make him laugh, and found herself pulling the most foolish antics possible to hear him give way to that magnificent sound. He learned that she was inordinately ticklish and so took every opportunity to send her into a bout of outraged squeals.

On the morning of the Fellowships' departure, it was this laughter that led Haldir to the mallorn that held their talan. Emerging through the tangle of branches that gave the area its solitude, he found Aragorn waiting at the bottom of a rope ladder as Arwen climbed down. When she was about five rungs from the forest floor, Aragorn reached up and tickled her sides. She squealed, letting go of the ladder and falling back into his arms. They both laughed as he swung her around until it was obvious she was becoming dizzy and then kicked against him until he set her down. She wavered unsteadily and he caught her and kissed her, for which he received in return a hard tug on his ear.

In a whisper he called her, "_Amin urite rerauko,"_ (My fiery she-demon) and they both laughed again and she threw her arms over his neck and they lost themselves in another kiss. With a frown, Haldir moved forward.

Aragorn heard the Elf draw near and lifted his gaze to him. Noting his distraction, Arwen glanced over her shoulder, starting at the appearance of Haldir and jumping guiltily from Aragorn's side.

Blatantly ignoring her, Haldir said to Aragorn, "Come. The Lady Galadriel bids that it is time for the Fellowship to depart."

Arwen did not like the way he spoke to Aragorn, nor did she appreciate his complete disdain of her presence. As Haldir turned to leave, without bothering to wait for an acknowledgement, Arwen stepped up him and said, "Why, Haldir, how are things in the Golden Wood?"

Haldir frowned and turned around. "As well as can be expected, Elf of Imladris."

"Haldir, do you not recognize me?"

"Why should I?"

Arwen glanced at Aragorn. "Do you remember the Lady's granddaughter?'

Haldir looked at her for a few minutes and then realized whom he was talking to.

"By Elbereth, if it isn't Arwen. How are you?"

Arwen smiled. "I am in perfect condition."

They talked for a few more minutes before Haldir said, "Well, I suggest that we start to walk otherwise we will never get to the river."

When Haldir turned away and moved off once more through the thicket, Arwen pressed her face into Aragorn's shoulder in an attempt to hide the laughter that had taken hold of her.

"You will get us banished for eternity from the realm!" Aragorn admonished, but beneath her cheek, Arwen could feel his body shaking with quiet mirth. Shaking his head at her antics, Aragorn grabbed hold of Arwen's hand and led her back through the forest to where the rest of the Fellowship waited.

Their comrades were packed and ready to depart from the sunlit glade when Aragorn and Arwen joined them. Some of the Galadhrim met with them, bringing them little cakes they referred to as _lembas _to take with them on their travels. The_ lembas_ were to be eaten lightly, for just a few bites would fortify a person for a day. They were golden on the outside and cream-coloured inside. Gimli ate an entire cake and was badgered good-naturedly by the Galadhrim for doing so. Along with the _lembas_, the members of the Fellowship were also gifted with Elven cloaks, wonderful garments that appeared to reflect the environment they were in. Near rocks the colour of the material appeared grey, near the water blue, near the trees brown and green. Each was held closed with a leaf-shaped clasp.

Very quickly, Haldir led them out of the city of the Galadhrim and through the forest toward the River. Awaiting them were three small boats built by the Elves for the Fellowship to use. With their belongings packed away, they were ready to resume their journey when an enormous swan-shaped boat glided over the River toward them. Seated inside were Celeborn and Galadriel. This was Arwen's first glimpse of her grandparents since she had been in Lothlorien. The light of ages seemed to surround them and in their eyes was held all the mysteries of life. The Fellowship was taken to the banks where a farewell feast was held. If Aragorn found her silence peculiar, he did not comment, only continued to touch her throughout the meal, as if quietly offering her his strength.

When the meal was finished, Galadriel gathered them together and announced that she had gifts to bestow on each of them in memory of Lothlorien. Then she called to each of them in turn.

Arwen watched curiously as each member received his gift. She marvelled over the beautiful bow given to Legolas, and smiled at Gimli's unexpected request and reception of three strands of Galadriel's golden hair. When the Lady turned to her, their eyes locked and Arwen saw a flash of recognition in their eyes. She still remembered the voice in her head when they had first entered the woods of Lorien and its effect on her. Not wanting to approach them, Arwen found herself inching closer to Aragorn. Noting her trepidation, Aragorn reached out and placed his hand at the small of her back, gently pushing her forward.

"Go on, _melamin_," he encouraged her softly.

Galadriel silently watched the young Elf before her, as she seemed to gather up her courage and move forward. She had indeed grown into a fine beautiful, young and brave Elf. Elrond had been wise to send her on this mission. It brought out her hidden talents. It also was not impossible to see the love shared between her and the Ranger. They were so full of the light of each other that it reflected onto those around them, touching them, enveloping them in its warmth and beauty. Even now, as Arwen approached her, Galadriel could see that she was merely an extension of Aragorn, as he was of her. Happiness filled the Lady of the Wood. It was a gift of Fate for such love to exist that was never expected or imagined to happen.

"I see you have found your way home," Galadriel commented kindly to Arwen. She glanced behind her to where Celeborn stood.

Arwen smiled. "Yes... I have."

Glancing over her shoulder for a moment at Aragorn as he continued to examine his new sword sheath, Arwen turned back to Galadriel and leaned nearer to her. "What do you think?"

The Lady flashed the smallest hint of a smile. "I wish you great happiness, Arwen. I can see that you love each other very much." But now I must you a question. How strong is your loyalty to him?"

"I belong wherever he is," Arwen answered without any hesitance.

Now the Lady did smile. She lifted her hands, holding between them a gold chain, attached to which was a tiny vial filled with an amber liquid. "Because sometimes we do not possess the strength needed within us to say goodbye." She slipped the chain over Arwen's head, the vial resting against the hollow of her neck. Then Galadriel leaned forward, whispering softly, her tone filled with sadness, "Be careful, my dear Arwen. Sometimes forever is too much, and not enough."

Arwen was silent as the Lady of the Wood moved away. She remained unmoving, her mind focused on those last words spoken until Aragorn came to her, telling her it was time to go. She nodded, allowing him to lead her back to the River, where she climbed into the boat with Legolas and Gimli. Looking back at the shore, she saw Galadriel and Celeborn standing beside the bank, waving. Unable to bring herself to say goodbye, Arwen lifted her hand in a brief signal of goodbye; then turned and focused on the River ahead as Legolas pushed the oar through the water. As they left the waters of Lothlorien, Galadriel's sweet voice whispered through Arwen's mind. _"Sometimes forever is too much, and not enough."_

__

The trip down the River was to be a long one. They travelled during the day, well into the evening before Aragorn would call them to a halt, stopping along the banks where they would make a small camp and rest before setting out the next day at dawn.

Legolas watched silently on the third day of their journey as Arwen sat up near the Dwarf, braiding his hair and speaking in low tones with him about Lothlorien. He tried not to listen in on what they were saying to one another, preferring to allow them a private conversation while he focused his attention on the banks around them. Since the day before, something had been prowling at the back of his mind, like an ominous cloud slowly stretching its hand across the sun. _Something was... following them_? He could not tell but things were not right. He knew he would have to be cautious during their journey but he did not want to alarm the others until he knew for certain that there was a danger.

He shook the thought from his mind as Arwen scooted back toward him. She craned her neck back to look at him. _"Mani naa ta? Lle ma dele."_ (What is it? You look worried)

_"N'uma. Amin tereva."_ (No. I am fine)

Arwen smiled. "_Tel'duin vanima."_ (The River is beautiful)

"Tis quite rude, you know," Gimli called out from the front of the boat. "All of this speaking in a language I have not yet grasped."

Arwen laughed and Legolas smiled at the sound. _"Ah, ai'ataramin. _(My little father) Are you feeling left out?"

"Humph." Gimli folded his arms over his chest and chose to ignore the question while behind him Arwen laughed again. She had taken to calling him _"ai'ataramin",_ or "Little father", since one day in Lorien when she had been splashing Aragorn with the water from the fountain and Gimli had warned her not to get too wet or she would become ill. Of course, the Dwarf would rather never see a cave again than to admit he was actually rather fond of the endearment.

Closing her eyes, Arwen allowed the gentle lapping of the water against the boat to lull her into a light sleep.

They made camp along the shore a few hours after darkness had fallen across the land. Sam cooked their meal and they gathered around the fire in silence, speaking little, each lost within their own thoughts. Arwen cast her gaze to Aragorn, knowing that soon he would move off to guard the camp, remaining their stalwart vigil against the darkness, while she and the others would try to find a comfortable spot to sleep. Arwen knew she would sleep a few hours then Aragorn would come, quietly waking her, taking her hand and leading her away from the camp where they would have the chance to spend a few precious hours in solitude. The sun would begin to rise and they would set off down the River once more.

As expected, Aragorn soon rose, bending over to brush a quick kiss on the top of her head before disappearing into the darkness. Arwen watched until she could no longer see him then sighed, crawling over to a space among the trees where Merry and Pippin were already curled up asleep. She lay down next to them, longing for sleep to come quickly because it would bring him to her that much sooner. Closing her eyes, Arwen allowed a small smile when she felt Pippin's hand curl comfortingly around her fingers.

Aragorn did not stray far from camp, remaining near the perimeter, his eyes and ears scanning the surrounding woods. The River was silent and he felt no danger from it. But the forest... He could not shake the feeling that something was drawing near to them. Unfortunately, he could delineate little else from his senses. It could be have been little more than a storm that was gathering, or some other significant change in the weather. Then again...

The tread of heavy footsteps pulled his attention back to the present and Aragorn called out in a quieted tone, "You should be resting with the others, Boromir."

The Man stepped into the open where Aragorn stood and he eyed him silently for a moment before replying, "I cannot sleep."

Aragorn turned to face the Man, recalling once more the strange expression he had caught on his face earlier that day. He could not help but remember the immediate disliking he had taken to the Man from Gondor during the Council at Rivendell. The way Boromir had spoken to him, the disdain and lack of respect he had shown. And though Boromir had proven a valiant member of the Fellowship throughout their travels, Aragorn still could not find the will within him to trust the Man completely.

"You have something to say to me? I wonder why you have been watching me so closely. It is as if there is something you disapprove of, Boromir. Is there?"

Boromir rubbed a hand over his neck, wondering if it would be wise to broach the subject or simply return to camp. He knew that Arwen loved Aragorn; it was obvious to anyone who watched her eyes when Aragorn drew near. But love did silly things to women and Boromir doubted she was thinking with anything other than her heart. He only wanted to protect her. _Was that so wrong_?

"Perhaps there is, Aragorn. I... I wonder why you do not remain with your own kind? Why do you feel it necessary to make her your own?"

Aragorn's expression remained unchanged though inside he found he was surprised at the turn of the conversation. The relationship shared between him and Arwen all the Fellowship knew about and yet no one had yet made comment to them, none had shown any sign of disapproval. _Until now. Boromir_.

Aragorn continued to regard the Man before him, recalling the surge of jealousy he had felt outside of Moria when Arwen and Boromir had sat together, laughing. _Had I simply not noticed that the Man's interest has always been there? And yet, Arwen had clearly chosen me. Not Boromir._

"I do not see that the relationship I share with Arwen is for your notice or comment, Boromir."

"I disagree." Boromir stepped toward him, hoping to get Aragorn to understand. If Arwen would not listen to reason, then perhaps Aragorn would.

"My love for her will never lessen," Aragorn replied adamantly. "Not that I should have to justify myself to you."

"I think you should," Boromir replied.

Aragorn's jaw clenched and unclenched in mounting fury. That this Man would dare to question his love for Arwen... That he would dare to allude that the love he felt for her were anything other than of the purest form...

"You do not say anything," Boromir commented after a moment.

"Because I do not feel that this conversation should be shared between anyone other than myself and Arwen," Aragorn replied angrily, turning away from the Man.

Aragorn remained silent, his gaze drifting to the stars that twinkled in the night sky above them. Thoughts crossed his mind that he had buried deeply within his heart, refusing for the past week to acknowledge them. He wished fervently that they were still in Lorien, where time and the world around them held no meaning.

Boromir watched Aragorn for a long while, realizing that he may have hit a nerve that would help his plea. Deciding to press further, he continued, "When I spoke with Arwen about this - "

_"Mani?"_ (What) Aragorn turned back to the Man, his pale gaze darkening dangerously. "You spoke with Arwen about this? When?"

"In Lorien," Boromir replied, undaunted. "You do not seem to understand, Aragorn, that I care for Arwen. I want her to be happy... and safe. But what about the future, Aragorn?"

Aragorn remained silent, his face hidden in the shadows. Sensing little from him, Boromir stepped forward, warming to his entreaty. "You cannot continue to make her happy," he continued. "Whereas I could—"

Aragorn snapped. Before Boromir could get another word out, he found himself pinned against the trunk of a tree, a knife pointed at his throat. Aragorn's expression was cool, though his blue eyes burned with a flame that caused Boromir to realize he had gone too far.

"Do not think I would hesitate to kill you, son of Denethor," Aragorn said, his voice soft, menacing. The knife seemed to draw nearer to Boromir's neck, gently pricking the skin there. "I will ask you once to stay away from Arwen. I will ask you once to understand that which you cannot: I love her. She has chosen me and I will not walk willingly away from her. Cause her one moment of grief, Boromir, son of Denethor, and you will feel the sting of my sword pierce through you. I ask all this of you once... and never again. Is this understood?"

"Aragorn!"

The Men remained unmoving as Arwen appeared out of the trees. She stared at the scene before her wide-eyed, questioning, as Aragorn stepped back from Boromir, replacing the knife into its sheath. A tense silence hung in the air around them before Aragorn finally cast a glance to Arwen. There was no censure in her gaze, only confusion, but Aragorn found that he could not calm the anger, which still burned within him. Without another word to either the Elf or the Man before him, Aragorn quickly disappeared into the woods.

His retrieval seemed to spur Arwen into motion and she immediately moved over to Boromir, her expression stormy. "What was that all about? What did you say to him?"

"Arwen, please understand. I only mean to protect you -- "

_"Aiya!_ (Oh) Curse all men and their stupidity!" Arwen replied, her hand itching to grab her sword and beat the man before her over the head with the flat of its blade. "When are you going to get it through that overly thick skull of yours that my destiny does not lay within yours, Boromir? I have made my choice and, good or bad, it is something, which you have to accept. Even if Aragorn were not here, there is no guarantee that I would have ever come to love you. Why do you try then to sow dissension between us? Is there not enough on this journey that we must face together? Can you not allow me some happiness?"

"I am sorry, Arwen." Boromir looked away from the pleading gaze before him. He had not meant it to go this way. He had only meant... He turned back to her. "I only meant to make him understand. To get a promise from him that he would not hurt you."

"You do not understand," Arwen told him quietly. "I can only hope that you have not destroyed what was so beautifully constructed between us."

Boromir took her hand in his, holding on to it when she would have pulled away. "I can only say I am sorry, Arwen. I would never give cause to end the friendship between us. If there is something -- "

She shook her head. "Go back to camp, Boromir. Get some rest. I will find Aragorn."

Arwen watched silently as the Man nodded and turned away with a heavy sigh, moving back toward the camp. Funny how in another time and another place she most likely would have gladly accepted his attention. Shaking her head, Arwen scanned the woods through which Aragorn had disappeared. She knew that if he did not wish to be found, she most likely would not be able to do so, but that did not mean she would not try. Even if it took the last few hours before dawn. Her mind fretting over what Boromir had said to him, Arwen began searching her way through the darkness.

It took little more than an hour before Arwen finally broke through the trees where Aragorn stood on the bank, staring out at the River. He had led her on a merry chase; she could admit that. She had been pricked by thorns, tripped more than once over uneven ground and hidden roots and been left to wonder more than once how terribly lost and far she was from camp. From her vantage point now, Arwen could see that they were only a few hundred yards north of camp and she could easily find her way back to camp by herself should she be left by Aragorn to do so.

_"Melamin,"_ Arwen spoke, moving to his side, and as she reached out to touch him, Aragorn moved away. That simple action hurt more than Arwen thought possible. She felt as if he had shot one of his arrows straight into her stomach. She almost gasped from the pain of it.

Aragorn remained silent, his gaze still focused on the water. Arwen was uncertain of what to do. She could not handle his rejection again. Wrapping her arms around herself, she remained where she was, watching Aragorn. Waiting.

A breeze stirred the trees around them. A wolf cried out somewhere in the distance. The 'plop' of a fish jumping from the water to catch a bug rippled through the River. Aragorn remained motionless in the moonlight, his profile filling Arwen's vision. The moon reflected off his dark hair. As the moments dragged by, she could swear he was becoming ever more handsome - and untouchable.

_"Ro caele tule a'lle n'ala."_ (He has come to you before)

Arwen started as his voice interrupted the silence surrounding them_. "Uma."_ (Yes)

_"Lle uume nyare amin."_ (You did not tell me) His tone was accusing. He still refused to look at her.

_"I know."_ (Amin sinta) _"Forgive me."_ (Amin hiraetha)

_"Lle hiraetha?"_ (Forgive you) The Man shook his head, but his tone softened. _"Lle malia ho?"_ (Do you care for him)?

_"N'uma!"_ (No) Arwen cast all her doubts aside and moved over to him. She laid her hand on his arm and this time he did not move away. _"Aragorn, amin mela lle." _(I love you)

_"Amin sinta."_ (I know) Aragorn held her closely to him, gently tugging her to the ground where she leaned into him, using his strength as her own.

They held each other until the dawn.

**Chapter Ten  
A Brief Interlude**

It was the evening of the seventh night of their journey and it had been but a few brief hours since the Fellowship had made camp along the shoreline. Aragorn had wandered the perimeter after a quick meal, remaining out of sight until he knew the others had gone to sleep.  
  
Now he stood within the camp, staring down at Arwen as she slumbered beside Merry and Pippin. Since the confrontation with Boromir, since his admission of loving her, their relationship had become uncomfortably strained, no small amount of which was his fault. He had remained away from her in the evenings, not coming to her as he had before, leaving her to sleep with the others until dawn. Arwen, in her usual manner, had said nothing to him regarding it, inherently understanding that he needed time and solitude to think. She continued to greet him with a smile each morning, snuggled against him each afternoon when she grew weary. But her laughter was less carefree and sorrow more often than not touched her eyes. And Aragorn knew that it was his fault.  
  
He was pulled from his reverie when Arwen sighed softly in her sleep, unconsciously moving closer to Pippin as if seeking his warmth and companionship. Aragorn felt the stirrings of a smile touch his lips. Arwen, Merry and Pippin had formed a strong friendship throughout the journey, one that appeared based on mutual adoration and nurturing. 

While they were each equally protective of one another, they also had a flair for playfulness, such as the water fight they had gotten into earlier that day which had ultimately left Legolas, Boromir and Gimli wetter than the three instigators. Expecting some sort of reprisal from Aragorn for the raucous that was made, Legolas had been surprised to find that the future King of Men was fighting hard not to burst into laughter at the sight before him. Frodo and Sam had already given over to the temptation, pointing fingers and chuckling over what a sight the bedraggled Elf, Dwarf and Man made. Gimli had threatened to toss Arwen overboard should she try anything of the like again and Legolas and Boromir had quickly agreed to offer their assistance.  
  
When they had made camp, Arwen had quickly become subdued once more and Aragorn had known she watched him, her heart silently crying out for his touch though she refrained from speaking of her need. He had not meant to hurt her. He too was feeling the strain of the forced separation, longing for nothing more than to lose himself in the smell of her skin, the whisper of her voice against his ear, the feel of her touch. But he had decisions to make, important choices concerning their future together, and Aragorn wanted to be completely certain of each one before he shared them with her.  
  
Kneeling to the moss covered ground, Aragorn reached out and lightly trailed his fingertips across her cheek. Even in her sleep, Arwen seemed to move into his touch, subconsciously seeking his presence. He brushed his hand over her forehead, touched the dark brown-tresses of her hair, before leaning over and placing a delicate kiss at the corner of her mouth.  
  
Arwen's eyes opened and she quickly sat up, her gaze sweeping over the camp. _"Mani naa ta?"_ (What is it) Her eyes searched quickly for the Hobbits next to her and she seemed to visibly relax when she saw that they were sleeping soundly. She looked back to Aragorn_. "Mani naa ta, Aragorn?"_  
  
Guilt suffused him that she would believe he would only now come to her if there were danger. A few nights ago she would have quietly risen without a word and followed him away from the camp. Sighing, he shook his head, reaching out to tuck an errant curl behind her ear.  
  
Arwen smiled suddenly as realization that Aragorn was there for her sank in. She said nothing more as he took her hands, pulling her to her feet before him. They stood there for a moment in silence, their hands still connected, their gazes locked before Aragorn turned and quietly led her away from camp.  
  
Pippin sat up on his elbows, watching as the Elf and Man disappeared through the trees.  
  
"Go back to sleep, Pip," Merry whispered from his inert state on the ground beside his friend.  
  
"I can't help but worry, Merry," Pippin replied with a frown. "She's my friend."  
  
Merry sighed. "And he will take care of her. You wouldn't be wanting to get between Strider and his sword, now would you?"  
  
"I'm no fool," Pippin said, lying back against the ground, duly noting that Merry had refrained from commenting on that last statement. "I worry about her, that's all."  
  
"Go to sleep, Pip."  
  
A few feet away, Boromir lay awake as well, silently agreeing with Pippin.  
  
Aragorn led Arwen eastward through the trees and brush until they reached an open field. It was a full moon that night and all around them the world was alive with the sights and sounds of nocturnal life. Starlight danced in the leaves of the trees behind them and winked off of the knee-high grasses of the field. The entire landscape was dotted with blossoms of every colour and fragrance, all swaying gently with the night breeze. Arwen smiled to see that Aragorn had already spread his cloak upon the soft ground and decided to tease him about his impetuosity.  
  
"What makes you so certain I would have come with you, son of Arathorn?" Arwen asked with a sideways glance his direction.  
  
Aragorn raised a brow cockily. "I'm a Man."  
  
Arwen's mouth fell in open in mock outrage and Aragorn laughed when she cuffed him playfully upside the head. Ducking her next attack, he grabbed her around the waist and promptly began tickling her, eliciting squeals of outrage that only made him laugh harder. When Aragorn decided Arwen had had enough, her cheeks wet with happy tears, he pulled her back against him, burying his face against her neck. He nuzzled her skin gently, breathing in the scent of her, a mixture of apples and spice, before placing a kiss below her ear.  
  
"If I had given you the chance to think about it, would you not have come, _melamin_?" Aragorn asked her quietly.  
  
"It would have crossed my mind," she replied honestly, her hand reaching up behind her to wrap around his neck, her fingers threading into his dark wavy hair.  
  
Aragorn smiled against her neck. "Then I'm glad I didn't give you the chance to think about it."  
Arwen laughed. "I could still leave, you know. I know a comfortable spot next to some Hobbits -- "  
  
With a low growl in his throat, Aragorn whirled her around to him, capturing her face between his hands and kissing her hard. Laying his forehead against hers, he warned with a smile, "Not if I have anything to say about it."  
  
Silence fell between them while Aragorn continued to place feather-light kisses over her face, his fingers gently kneading her neck. Leaning into him, Arwen laid her head against his chest, losing herself in the peaceful cadence of his heartbeat. His hands moved over her back, touching, caressing, and awakening her skin with little ripples of pleasure that coursed through her from head to foot. Knowing she needed to speak before she became too lost in what his hands were doing to her, Arwen asked quietly:  
  
"Would you really kill Boromir?"  
  
Aragorn froze. Arwen closed her eyes, waiting for that moment when he would break away from her suddenly, when an invisible barrier would once more erect itself between them. But it never came. Instead, she felt Aragorn sigh softly, his hands once more stroking her.  
  
"If he did anything to bring you to harm, to come between us... _Uma."_ (Yes) Feeling her tense beneath him, Aragorn continued, "As you know, I'm not innocent, Arwen. You need to understand that though I may be strong and live in peace with nature that does not make me a child. I keep what is mine, Arwen. And nothing comes between that. Do you understand?" He lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.  
  
His eyes were darker than she had ever seen them and there was coldness about them she never believed possible. A danger. A shiver stole through her. She nodded.  
  
Aragorn gave her a half-smile. "Calm your fears, _melamin_." He kissed the tip of her nose. "I will bring no harm to Boromir. His interest in you has driven him to behave foolishly and I doubt he will do so again. He is a member of the Fellowship and as such he has my sword at his side, not at his heart."  
  
"Or his throat," Arwen commented off-handily, which brought a smile to the Man's face.  
  
_"Carad'lokiamin_ (My fiery dragon)," Aragorn whispered, capturing her mouth with his and kissing her until she was breathless and worn in his arms.

He caught himself before dropping his weight on her, rolling to his side and pulling her with him into his arms.  
  
_"Amin milye lle," _(I missed you) she whispered softly against his shoulder.  
  
_"Amin hiraetha, melamin."_ (I am sorry, my love) He kissed her forehead. "_Amin ante coiasira."_ (I needed time)  
  
_"Amin sinta."_ (I know)  
  
They fell into a comfortable silence. Aragorn stroked Arwen's back for the moment, enjoying the simple feel of her bare skin against his. He caressed her cheek, kissed her softly. Foremost in his mind was how very much he loved her and how often he would tell her so daily, so that she would never be left to doubt. For it was easy to see, for anyone who truly looked, that her place was and always would be, at his side. Turning to his side, Aragorn cupped her face in his hands, holding her before him.  
  
_"Melamin, vesta amin ten'oio."_ (Promise me forever)  
  
_"Amin vesta ten'oio."_ (I promise you forever)  
  
_"N'uma."_(No) Aragorn shook his head, his gaze meeting hers, holding it. _"Gwaedh lle a'amin, Arwen."_ (Bind yourself to me, Arwen) _"Ten'oio."_ (Forever) _"N'ala ilya Ened-Arda."_ (Before all of Middle-earth) _"Veruva amin, melamin."_ (Marry me, my love)  
  
Arwen could not think of what to say. She closed her eyes, afraid to meet his gaze.  
  
Aragorn saw the hesitation in her eyes before she shuddered them and leaned forward to kiss her lips. "No hurry, _melamin_. I did not mean to rush you. You will tell me yes or no, when you are ready."  
  
Kissing Arwen once more, Aragorn gently prodded her head to his shoulder, bidding her to rest a while before they returned to camp.

The next morning the Fellowship set out once more before the sun had peaked over the horizon. Little was said throughout the day, for everyone seemed to feel the pressing stillness that covered the shores surrounding them. Something hung in the air... a danger, an omen, it could not be named but it left its mark on the company that day. The woods that rose on either side of them seemed shadowy, threatening.

Even the blue sky above clouded over and the waters through which they glided appeared darker and murky. Aragorn was as wary as the others of the surrounding area and pushed them on well into the night, before finally calling out that it was time to pull ashore to rest. By then they had travelled well away from the woods and the collective mood around them had lightened.  
  
The ninth evening of their journey, all hearts had lightened and a general camaraderie was felt around the encampment. While Sam was busy cooking up their meal and Legolas and Aragorn had moved on to scout the perimeter, Boromir and Arwen offered to spar for a bit with Merry and Pippin. The two Hobbits eagerly agreed, as they were all beginning the feel the strain of the confinement in the boats, and they quickly found an open glade in which to practice. Gimli and Frodo followed out of curiosity, sitting at the edge of the woods to watch.  
  
First, Boromir and Arwen performed a mock battle against one another, telling the Hobbits to watch them carefully and then mimic their performance. They did so, move for move, until Pippin stepped on Merry's foot, tripping himself into his friend and they both tumbled to the ground amidst the laughter of the onlookers.  
  
"Clumsy oaf!" Merry sputtered, pushing the other Hobbit off of him. "You're lucky you didn't land on my sword!"  
  
"Sorry," Pippin exclaimed, sitting up and rubbing the dirt from his eyes. "But if your big feet weren't always in the way --"  
  
"My big feet!" Merry began in outrage.  
  
Laughing, Arwen grabbed Pippin by the scruff of his neck, pulling him to his feet while Boromir did likewise with Merry. "Now, now. These kinds of things happen. That's why you have to be extra aware during battle. There is always the chance that your opponent may have bigger feet than you... or longer arms or whatever."  
  
"She's right," Boromir continued. "It's unlikely that you are going to be battling many enemies who are your size, so you will have to prepare yourself for all eventualities. Even big feet."  
  
Arwen was unsuccessful at stifling the giggle that threatened when Merry made a face at Boromir's comment. "Okay, okay. This time, Pippin, you will fight Boromir and I will fight Merry. Ready?"  
  
The sparring continued for the next half hour, their swords clanging in the twilight, matched in volume only by the occasional shout and laughter. They finally broke into teams, Boromir and Merry against Pippin and Arwen. Gimli and Frodo shouted encouragement from the sidelines, each choosing their own pair to root for -- Gimli went with Boromir and Merry because they were comparably stronger, but Frodo chose Arwen and Pippin immediately because they were smaller, and unexpected. It was during their last match that the larger of the two teams was prepared to finally declare a victory, after Boromir and Merry had conspired quietly together on a strategy.

They ended up manoeuvring Arwen and Pippin into the exact position that they wanted, Pippin and Boromir battling up and behind Arwen, who was facing off with Merry. Taking the chance of possibly being cut by Pippin's sword, Boromir kicked his leg out, knocking the Hobbit off his feet, and then lunging over to Arwen, who he quickly grasped around the waist and lifted into the air. Merry tossed himself under Arwen's flailing feet to tackle Pippin who was just attempting to climb back to his feet and both Man and Hobbit quickly claimed victory.  
  
"That's cheating!" Arwen charged, still struggling valiantly against Boromir's hold over her over his head.  
  
"Be prepared for any eventuality!" Merry declared with a shout, sitting atop Pippin's chest.  
  
Arwen laughed, in between her indignation at being caught off guard. "By the stars, Boromir, you've got a vice grip!"  
  
The Man chuckled. "And a few more well placed kicks from you and I'll be speaking in a high-pitched voice."  
  
"Then let me go, you great mammoth of a Man!"  
  
He did. Just let her go, while she was in mid-kick.  
  
Arwen fell with an "Umph!" to the ground, and was preparing to launch into a few well-chosen names for Boromir when she looked up to find Legolas standing above her. Legolas watched them both quietly for a long moment before extending his hand to Arwen, helping her to her feet.  
  
"We... We were just teaching the little ones some battle techniques," Boromir explained.  
  
Legolas nodded. "I noticed." He looked down at Arwen, who continued to regard him silently. Suddenly, he smiled. "But you both have forgotten one important principle to show them."  
  
Arwen felt herself matching his smile. "And what is that?"  
  
"What to do when you are out-numbered." His gaze flashed over to Merry and Pippin who were still on the ground, staring up at him, their eyes widening ever so slightly as Boromir and Arwen followed his gaze.  
  
"Attack the Halflings!" He suddenly shouted, withdrawing one of his daggers. Arwen and Boromir both grabbed their swords from the ground and charged with him after the two Hobbits, who had already scrambled to their feet and were running in mock terror around the glade.  
  
Gimli and Frodo looked on in baffled amusement until the Dwarf grunted. "Well, Master Baggins, I can hardly say how this is fair at all. What say we offer our services to our comrades?"  
  
Frodo grinned and jumped up after the Dwarf, shouting, "Take down the Longshanks!"  
  
It was four against three and, in the end; Boromir, Arwen and Legolas gave over to the onslaught of their shorter companions. It was this sight which greeted Aragorn and Sam as they entered the glade in search of the others, Legolas being stood on by Gimli, Arwen being mercilessly tickled by Pippin and Frodo, and Merry kneeling on Boromir's chest, threatening him with the dagger he had pilfered off of Legolas.  
  
Rubbing a hand over his chin thoughtfully, Aragorn glanced down at the Hobbit beside him. "Well, Sam, what do you have to say about this?"  
  
"I'm not rightly sure, Strider," Sam replied with a shake of his head. "But I'd say Middle-earth is in trouble."  
  
Their meal around the fire that night was filled with laughter and song and stories. Sam recited a scary story told to him as a child by the Gaffer, which Arwen was quick to point out to Pippin when it was done made him "scream like a girl". Pippin argued this while the others laughed and he finally gave up, left with no reply but sticking his tongue out at the female. She had laughed and kissed his curly head before getting up and following Aragorn away from the camp.  
  
Hours later, Arwen leaned back against the Man's chest, his arms and legs wrapped around her, keeping her warm and safe, as they sat on a small hillside, staring up at the stars. Silence enveloped them, leaving each to their own thoughts, their hearts beating in sync with one another, and their breathing low and mellifluous. Aragorn held Arwen's hands within his, absently stroking his thumb over her palm, caressing the underside of her wrist. Occasionally she would close her eyes and drift into a light sleep, that slip of Time where everything seems to freeze in an instant and one is not wholly asleep nor wholly awake but aware of both worlds at once. She found herself wanting to memorize this moment; this place in Time where it seemed nothing could touch them. Her friends were safely sleeping not far away; the other half of her soul sat quietly holding her against him. All was at peace. All was perfect. The future did not matter.  
  
Opening her eyes, Arwen watched as a shooting star streaked across the night sky. She made her wish. "Aragorn?"  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
_"Uma."_ (Yes)  
  
He closed his eyes and smiled against her ear.

**Chapter Eleven  
Amon Hen**

_  
There's a beautiful river  
In the valley ahead  
There need be no drought  
Soon we will wed  
Should we lose each other  
In the shadow of the evening dreams  
Oh, I'll wait for you  
Should I fall behind wait for me  
My love, I'll wait for you  
Should I fall behind wait for me  
_  
  
_"Mani naa ta?" _(What is it) Arwen glanced back at Legolas who had been silent for the past hour.  
  
At first she thought he had not heard her, but then he flickered his gaze toward her briefly. _"Kai." _(Nothing) His gaze immediately returned to the water around them.  
  
Arwen sighed, knowing she had to be satisfied with what he gave her for the moment, for he would not worry her with his concerns until he was more certain of them.  
  
The tenth day of their journey had been relatively unremarkable, save for the morning when they had passed by the Argonath, the Pillars of the Kings. Like giants they had risen on either side of the River, towering, silent yet somehow threatening grey figures. They stood upon great pillars of stone, facing the North, their left hands raised, palm out, in a gesture of warning. In their right hands they each held an axe, their heads covered with helm and crown. They signified all that was powerful and majestic of the Kings of Men and instilled in Arwen feelings of awe. She noticed that even Boromir bowed his head silently as they drifted by and the Hobbits cowered almost fearfully within the boats. No one had spoken a word since.  
  
Only a few hours had passed, and it was still long before twilight when Aragorn called out that it was time to make for the shore. Arwen glanced back at Legolas, but his attention was still focused elsewhere, as if listening intently to their surroundings. Preferring not to bother him, Arwen leaned toward Aragorn's boat.  
  
"Isn't it early to be stopping?"  
  
Aragorn pointed south to the tall peak rising in the near distance. "There lies Tol Brandir. To your left is Amon Lhaw, the right, Amon Hen, the Hills of Learning and of Sight. This is the end of one journey and the beginning of the next. Here is where we must make our decision as to who will continue on to Mordor with Frodo, and who will travel to Gondor with Boromir."  
  
Arwen frowned, but sat back in the boat as Legolas guided it to the shores of Amon Hen. She did not like the idea of the Fellowship splitting up at all. Either they all go to Mordor or they all go to Gondor. That was her thought on the matter, but she doubted they would listen. Around her the others seemed to fall into a shadow of despair as well and Arwen found herself missing the easy camaraderie of a few nights before.  
  
Arwen followed Gimli onto the shore a few feet up the bank where he sat down to build a fire. She pulled her last apple from her pack, tossing it to Pippin as he moved up to sit beside her. He flashed her a grateful smile before biting into it and chewing happily, a contented smile on his face. Digging through her pack once more, Arwen broke off a piece of one of her lembas cakes, and tossed it into her mouth. Her gaze strayed to Legolas who stood not far away, his eyes searching the woods around them, his manner and stance tense. She considered going to talk to him when Aragorn announced:  
  
"We cross the lake at nightfall. Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north."  
  
"Oh, yes?" The Dwarf replied from his position beside Pippin and Arwen. "It's just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil? An impossible labyrinth of razor sharp rocks! And after that, it gets even better! Festering, stinking marshlands far as the eye can see!"  
  
Arwen smiled at the look of worry that crossed Pippin's face and she reached out a comforting hand to pat his shoulder.  
  
Aragorn did not appear ruffled by Gimli's comments. "That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf."  
  
"Recover my..." Gimli sputtered angrily, turning a few shades redder than usual. "No dwarf need recover strength! Pay no heed to that, young Hobbit," he instructed Pippin who, like Arwen, was finding it difficult not to laugh.  
  
Biting her lip to keep from embarrassing the Dwarf further, Arwen cast her gaze back to Legolas, who turned suddenly to Aragorn.  
  
"We should leave now."

Aragorn shook his head. "No. Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness."  
  
Legolas sighed, glancing back toward the forest behind them. "It is not the eastern shore that worries me." He turned back to the Ranger, his expression intent. "A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near... I can feel it."  
  
Just then Merry returned to the camp, his arms filled with kindling for the fire. Setting it down, he looked around. "Where's Frodo?"  
  
Arwen looked up, the others looked around. Even Sam seemed perplexed as to where the other Hobbit had disappeared so quietly.  
  
"We'd better look for him," Aragorn said to Legolas who nodded, both having noticed that Boromir was absent as well. A look of understanding passed silently between them. "Gimli, you take the south woods, Legolas go north, and I'll head east."  
  
Arwen scrambled to her feet. "I can look, too."  
  
Aragorn turned to her. "No. Stay with the Hobbits." He seemed to realize that she was about to argue for he took her hand in his.  
  
"Someone needs to be here to protect them, in case whatever I sense approaches," he told her quietly.  
  
"You are just saying that to console me."  
  
_"N'uma, melamin." _(No, my love) They need you here to look after them." He caught her gaze and held it and for a brief moment, a very real fear swept over him. Something in his heart cried out to take her with him, to not leave her side.  
  
"Aragorn!" Legolas called out.  
  
Then Arwen was telling him, _"Tira ten' rashwe,"_ (Be careful) before leaning over to softly kiss the corner of his mouth.  
  
Aragorn smiled and nodded, before moving off into the woods in search of Frodo.  
  
Arwen watched as they all departed before her she shifted her attention to the Hobbits around her. They seemed as on edge as she was, silent, their gazes scanning the area around them. Knowing she needed to get their minds off of whatever was out there -- or not out there, as the case might be -- she set about stirring up the fire, and then called out to Sam to help her prepare a meal.  
  
Sam did not reply.  
  
Turning in his direction, Arwen saw that the Hobbit was now standing, his eyes focused on the woods behind them. "Sam?"  
  
"We should look for Mr. Frodo," he told her, not turning to meet her gaze.  
  
"Aragorn will find him. Now, please. Come over here and help me."  
  
Sam hesitated, turned to look at her for a moment then suddenly shook his head. "No. I have to find Frodo."  
  
"Sam!" Arwen jumped to her feet as the Hobbit darted off into the forest. She grabbed a fistful of air for her trouble and was left to watch in disbelief as Sam ran off into the trees. Merry and Pippin ran up beside her, watching silently as their company was now pared down to three.  
  
"Should we follow him?" Pippin asked.  
  
"No," Arwen responded resolutely. "I want the two of you to sit down and figure out something to prepare for dinner," she finished with a snap.  
  
"To be fair, Arwen," Pippin offered. "He did get a bit of a jump on you."  
  
Arwen moved away from the Hobbits to pace in front of the River, waiting for the return of the others. Her gaze continually strayed to the forest as the minutes ticked by, her heart heavy with worry. She tried to blame it on the concern, which, she had noted, had hung around Legolas all that day. But something nagged her and caused her to believe that his fears were real. Repeatedly her hand swept to the hilt of her sword, and at its touch her heartbeat would steadily increase. Arwen knew she had it in her, if they had to participate in another battle. Succeed or fail she would see it through to the end, beside Aragorn.  
  
"We don't have much here, but I was able to find some fresh mushrooms at our last stop," Merry called out to her from beside the fire. "Would you like some, Arwen?"  
  
She flashed a smile and moved over to join the two Hobbits who were watching her anxiously. "I believe I might try one after all. Thank you, Merry."  
  
The Hobbit handed her a plate while across the fire, Pippin kept casting his gaze from the food on his plate back to the forest behind them. A disturbing silence seemed to settle around them until even the small fire seemed to quietly begin to die away. None of them touched their food nor spoke a word to one another. The minutes continued to tick by without word or sign from the others. The three companions sat unmoving, watching one another, their senses slowly awakening to everything around them. Arwen felt the hairs on the nape of her neck prickle and stand on end. Across from her, Pippin's eyes suddenly widened, as if he too felt something in the air.  
  
The fire sputtered and died.  
  
All three jumped in unison as a pair of pheasants broke from the forest, sailing over them, calling out as if in warning. Arwen dropped her plate, rising to her feet, her nostrils flaring slightly in anticipation. She glanced down at the Hobbits. Their gazes met once more. Silence.  
  
Suddenly the clang of steel colliding with steel echoed down from the wooded hills behind them. Pippin and Merry jumped to their feet as Arwen whirled around, her eyes searching the trees.  
  
"A battle!" Pippin cried out as they moved to stand beside the Elf.  
  
Arwen's mind raced. What was she to do? They had instructed her to stay and watch the Hobbits. But surely if Orcs were attacking, they would need all the help they could get.  
  
"Arwen?" Merry looked up at her, waiting for instructions.  
  
She gripped the hilt of her sword. I'm supposed to be at Aragorn's side. Not here. She nodded, as if coming to a decision within herself. "Come on."  
  
Merry and Pippin broke into a run after Arwen had thrown the food away; then darted into the woods and up the hill. From far above, the sounds of battle were increasing. The Hobbits glanced at one another as the growls and snarls of Orcs reached them. They too still harboured vivid memories of Moria. The Company had been together then, able to fight as one. Now they were separated, possibly each in a different area of the forest. How were they to hold off their attackers in pockets of two or three?  
  
First and foremost in Arwen's mind was the safety of the two Hobbits following her. After all, she had been charged with their care. Though she knew she needed to join in the battle, she knew also that she had to protect Merry and Pippin. And when she found Sam, she would give him a sound thrashing for running off on her. Slowing to a jog, Arwen spotted an area up ahead that provided her with at least an ounce of relief. Waving to the Hobbits to follow her, she led them to a formation in the ground where a felled tree and some brush growth has created a hidden grotto within the side of the hill. Stopping beside it, she pointed to Merry and Pippin.  
  
"You and you, in there!"  
  
"What?" Merry protested. "We're not going to hide while everyone else runs off to get killed!"  
  
Arwen sighed. "I don't plan on going anywhere to get killed. But neither do I need to be worrying about the both of you. Please? Just stay here until I can find out what in the heavens is going on."  
  
Merry looked ready to protest further but Pippin tugged at his arm. "She's right, Merry. It might be something little. We'd only be in the way."  
  
"Oh, Pip." Arwen knelt down beside her two friends. "Neither of you could ever be in the way. But Aragorn asked me to protect you and I am going to do that first and foremost. And then I'll... "She looked away worrying her lower lip, her gaze following the sounds of battle.  
  
"We see your point," Merry told her. "Come on, Pip."  
  
Pippin started to follow Merry into the enclave; then stopped and turned to Arwen, placing his hand over hers. "Aragorn is fine."  
  
Arwen smiled. "Yes. You're right, of course." She stood. "Stay here. Don't move. I'll be back soon."  
  
They both nodded, watching in silence as she leapt up over the fallen tree and raced up the hill.  
  
Unfortunately, Arwen did not reach the summit of Amon Hen. Halfway up the wooded hillside, her first attacker broke through the trees. She barely had time to stumble out of the way and draw her sword before he was upon her, and then she was not at all prepared for the force of his hit. When his weapon slammed into hers, she fell back onto the ground. For a brief moment, she was in shock. She remembered battling the Orcs in Moria. She had been prepared then but still her attackers had not been so strong. The creature before her...  
  
Arwen was more prepared for his next blow, standing and securing her footing as he came at her. Knowing she needed to gain the upper ground if she were to beat him, she carefully manoeuvred her way around him, meeting his blows and remaining on the defensive until she acquired the proper momentum over him. Then she mentally recalled some of her sparring matches with Boromir and the tips she had learned from Aragorn before she finally cut her attacker's legs from under him. Not waiting to see what damage she caused, Arwen broke away immediately back up the hill, only to find that more of the same were headed toward her.  
  
It took her third attack before Arwen began to realize that something was not quite right. The creatures were all around her, though only three had taken the time to stop and fight her. The others raced by without glancing her way, as if she were unimportant. Their actions left her confused and frustrated. It was as if they were there for something specific, instead of a random attack or with the purpose of killing the party. With a hard swing, Arwen dispatched her attacker in a quick decapitation, turning away before she had to witness the actual toppling of his head from his shoulders. That was when Merry's voice reached her.  
  
"Hey! Hey you! Over here!"  
  
Pippin's voice joined in. "Hey!"  
  
"Over here!"  
  
"This way!"  
  
Whirling around, Arwen felt her heart leap into her throat as Merry and Pippin raced down the hill, followed closely by their attackers. Realization hit her. They were there for the Hobbits alone. Blinking herself back into the moment, Arwen started down the hill when footsteps behind her caused her to jump out of the way just in time not to be skewered through her back. The creature –- she had already decided these were not Orcs, at least not the garden variety – leapt at her then, taking her down to the ground where they rolled a few feet, fighting for dominance. Arwen knew that in hand to hand combat she would be lucky to last a minute or two, so she quickly searched her mind for a solution to defeating the brute that was currently attempting to get his hands wrapped around her throat. Then she remembered the small dagger that Legolas had told her to carry in her boot back in Lothlorien.  
  
Getting to it was another matter entirely. Her attacker had her pinned on her back, while he sat on her chest, preparing to suffocate and crush her in one instance. Not really understanding the anatomy of the creatures that were attacking, Arwen silently reminded herself that nothing ventured, nothing gained, and after closing her eyes, she punched forward as hard as she could at her attacker's groin. He barked in pain, releasing his grip around her neck and rolling off of her. Not thinking twice about what she was doing, Arwen snatched the dagger from her boot and plunged it into his neck. Leaping to her feet, she ran back for her sword, which had been lost during the tumble a few feet up the hill. Once she had it back in hand, Arwen broke into a run.  
  
Just in time to hear the Horn of Gondor sound through the forest.  
  
More of their attackers flooded around her, as if the Horn were drawing them forth out of nowhere. She skirted the edge of the growing crowd, hoping to move in front of them, turn to face them as they were on coming, but instead she was continually forced further to the outside. The clang of swords rang out from just ahead and she looked up to find Boromir battling bravely, protecting Merry and Pippin who stood behind him. During a brief lapse, he put the Horn to his mouth and blew it loudly once more.  
  
"Boromir!" Arwen cried out, swinging her sword at one of the attackers as he ran by, effectively severing an arm.  
  
The Man looked up as she battled her way towards him. "Arwen! The Hobbits! Get to Merry and Pippin!"  
  
She nodded, knowing that she could reach his back by circling around the edge of the hill, and then perhaps the four of them would have an advantage together. Unfortunately, their attackers sensed her intentions and quickly began to converge on her. Arwen was growing tired, her arms screaming in protest each time she left them to deflect another blow. Where was Aragorn? Where were Legolas and Gimli? Slicing through the neck of her current opponent, Arwen broke into a quick sprint, trying to beat the sole creature that followed her over the last ridge.  
  
A sudden cry from one of the Hobbits broke her attention, and Arwen skidded to a stop, watching in abject horror as Boromir dropped to his knees, an arrow projecting from his chest. Panic filled her. Without Boromir, she would be unable to protect the Hobbits. They would all be killed. Relief filled her as the Man struggled to his feet, meeting his next attacker. Quietly she prayed that it was only a shoulder wound as she swung her blade up to meet the next blow aimed her direction. Frustration and anger were beginning to fill her, tears stinging her eyes. Just how many of them were there? As she brought her blade down one last time, slicing the throat of her current attacker, Arwen watched in sudden bemusement as her sword tumbled to the ground at her feet. She stared at it blankly for a moment, wondering how she could have dropped it, when her gaze was drawn to her left hand... and the arrow that was lodged in the centre of it.  
  
Time seemed to stand still and all Arwen could do was continue to stare in disbelief at the unreal sight before her. It was the second cry that galvanized her: the sight of Boromir falling to his knees once more, a second arrow piercing his torso. Arwen seemed to step outside of herself, snapped the sharp tip off of the arrow and then, grasping the hilt, pulled it from her hand. A scream echoed off the trees, though she could not be certain it was her own voice that made it. Bending over, she picked up her sword, knowing she could now reach Boromir and the Hobbits and perhaps provide the support needed.  
  
Whirling around to head their direction, Arwen realized she was too late. She was left to watch helplessly as Boromir fell one last time to his knees, a third arrow protruding from his stomach. The scream she wanted to utter stuck in her throat. Everything suddenly happened at once. Merry and Pippin, rage and sorrow claiming them, dropped her cloak, grabbed their swords, and screaming charged into the foray. But they only made it a few feet before they were gathered up into the arms of their attackers, slung like sacks of vegetables over their shoulders and carried off into the forest.  
  
"Pippin! Merry!" Arwen shouted out to them, scrambling down the last of the hill, sword grasped in her hand, staring at the savages as they carried her friends away. She turned back to Boromir, wanting to go to him, knowing it was useless. There was nothing she could do. Hold him while he died.  
  
Her gaze rose to find one last creature moving down the hill, slowly, purposely, Boromir's executioner. Unlike the others he was devoid of armour, sure of himself, walking steadily towards them, raising his bow once more, this time levelled at Arwen. She knew she had already tasted the sting of his arrow. She had no defense left.  
  
"Arwen!" Boromir called out to her, drawing her attention to him, her gaze flickering from the oncoming attack to the Man dying not but a few feet from her. "The little ones! Arwen, don't leave them! Go after Merry and Pippin!"  
  
"Boromir... "She took a step toward him, afraid to leave.  
  
"Arwen, please," he beseeched her.  
  
The arrow rose.  
  
Arwen blinked away the tears that were clouding her vision. "_Namarie_, Boromir," she whispered, before turning and breaking into a run through the trees, narrowly dodging the arrow that followed, as she disappeared into the woods.

Aragorn quietly tightened the last strap of Boromir's bracers over his wrist before turning his gaze to Legolas who was even now pushing one of the boats toward the lake.  
  
"Hurry! Frodo and Sam have reached the eastern shore!"  
  
Aragorn remained silent.  
  
"You mean not to follow them." Legolas moved back up the shore toward the Ranger, his brow furrowed.  
  
"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands," Aragorn replied quietly.  
  
"Then it has all been in vain!" Gimli grumbled. "The Fellowship has failed."  
  
Aragorn moved toward them both, and placed his hands on their shoulders. "Not if we hold true to each other." He turned his gaze to Legolas, forcing him to meet his eyes. "Arwen is not with Frodo and Sam."  
  
Legolas watched in silence as Aragorn's blue gaze turned grey as he spoke. It was obvious his mind was refusing to accept what Boromir had told him. "What do you mean? Where else could she be?"  
  
"Before he... before he died, Boromir said that she went after Merry and Pippin."  
  
"By herself?"

Aragorn nodded. Fear such as he had never known washed over him. Aragorn could barely acknowledge the slight reassuring squeeze that Legolas gave to his shoulder.  
  
"Arwen has a good head start on us," Legolas said softly. "But she's smart. She's only doing what she knows we will do as well. We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment to death. Not while we have strength left."

Legolas waited until Aragorn met his gaze once again.

Aragorn regained his composure, and started up into the woods behind them, retrieving his dagger from the body of one of his victims. "Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light. Let's hunt some Orc!"  
  
Gimli gave an encouraging shout, glancing over at Legolas, hoping that Aragorn had seen that like Legolas, he too believed that Arwen would be all right.

Aragorn started off, Legolas and Gimli following, his heart still pounding unsteadily against his chest, one thought echoing through his mind:  
  
He never should have left her.

**Chapter Twelve  
_Namarie_**

_  
Wherever You Go -- The Calling_  
  
_So lately, I've been wondering  
Who will be there to take my place  
When I'm gone, you'll need love  
To light the shadows on your face  
If a great wave should fall  
It would fall upon us all  
And between the sand and stone  
Could you make it on your own  
  
If I could, then I would  
I'll go wherever you will go  
Way up high or down low  
I'll go wherever you will go  
  
I know now, just quite how  
My life and love might still go on  
In your heart and your mind  
_I'll stay with you for all of time  
  
Arwen gratefully slid to the ground behind the trunk of an enormous tree, her shaking legs almost giving out on her during the descent. Merry and Pippin's captors had travelled without resting for the past day and Arwen, knowing she would lose them if she stopped, had done the same. Unfortunately, she was getting tired. Leaning her head back against the tree, she closed her eyes for a brief moment's rest, knowing she could not remain still too long or she would likely fall asleep. Her left hand, wrapped hastily in a strip of her tunic, had gone from severe pain to a blessed numbness. She wondered how long she had to get it treated before a serious infection decided to set in.  
  
Like her hand, Arwen had succeeded in numbing her heart as well. She tried desperately not to think of Boromir, laying there as his life's blood seeped onto the cold, hard ground, knowing she could have provided him some happiness in the last of his days if she had not been so selfish. If she had not thought only of her own heart and her love for Aragorn... Biting her lip against the sob that threatened, Arwen tried to turn her mind elsewhere.  
  
For the past day she had been trying to reach an understanding as to why Merry and Pippin had blatantly ignored her instructions. The only reasonable explanation was Frodo. He must have been somewhere nearby and she knew that they would have done anything to protect their friend. It was just the way that they were, having no consideration for their own safety. So they had sacrificed themselves for Frodo and Frodo had... Here was where Arwen found herself wondering just how split the Fellowship had become after Amon Hen. Already Frodo had to deal with Boromir's comments at the Council about using the Ring for Gondor. If he had any worries whatsoever about his safety among the Fellowship... well, if Arwen were Frodo, she would have struck out on her own long ago. But then, she doubted Sam would ever allow such a thing.  
  
Sighing, Arwen cast a painful glance at her hand for a moment then craned her head around the side of the trunk to make certain everyone was still where they were supposed to be. About twelve hours ago, they had stopped briefly when a horde of about one hundred Orcs had joined them. It was thanks to the newcomers that she now understood she had been correct in her assumptions that their attackers had not been the garden-variety Orcs. Especially when one watched the two of them beside each other. The Orcs were smaller in stature, hunched over with long arms. The Uruk-hai, as she heard them called, were massive in size, erect and extremely strong. From the conversation she overheard, Arwen was led to believe that these Uruk-hai belonged to Saruman, while the Orcs, which recently joined them, were loyal to Sauron. She knew she would have to be careful. Things could begin to be very interesting with those two groups together. Luckily, the Uruk-hai, who were intent on taking Merry and Pippin to Saruman, were stronger and Arwen did not worry too much that the Orcs would have a chance to kill them, as they wished to do.  
  
Leaning back once more, Arwen allowed all of her thoughts to drift to Aragorn. She knew he was most likely angry with her for running off, but at the time she had no choice. Someone needed to follow, and she knew she could not have taken the Uruk-hai who had killed Boromir. She had no choice but to run. In her heart, she knew that her lover was all right. He would have survived the battle, or she would have felt it. A presence as beautiful and powerful as his could not be extinguished from the universe without everything within nature feeling it. So he was out there, most likely even now heading in her direction, and Arwen knew without a doubt she would gladly put up with his anger to have him there beside her.  
  
I am going to marry him. A smile touched her face. Where will they live? Which life would their children choose? Arwen's eyes widened at the thought and she quickly shook her head with a silent laugh. Now she was getting ahead of herself. Children, indeed. They still had two Hobbits to rescue and a Ring to destroy and Middle-earth to save from certain doom. She frowned. Putting it that way, she would rather dwell on her future life as the wife of the heir of Isildur then the present situation.  
  
Behind her, the Orcs and Uruk-hai seemed to be gathering once more and she knew it was the end of her rest. Climbing to her feet, Arwen reached into her pack for a small bit of lembas, chewing it quietly as her gaze scanned the crowd ahead. She finally found the two small bundles she was searching for, who were forced to stand now and continue on foot. She sighed with relief, pleased to know that Merry and Pippin were still unharmed enough to be capable to walk on their own. With one last glance behind her, silently hoping to catch a glimpse of dark hair, Arwen turned and began continued following the Hobbit's captors.

I should never have left her.  
  
Aragorn closed his eyes as the thought filtered through his mind yet again. The fear within him steadily mounted each moment that she remained out of his sight. Did she know he was coming for her? Or had she abandoned hope, believing she was on her own? The Man's jaw clenched as he opened his eyes, once more scanning the horizon, the silent hope budding in his heart that he would see her out there, safe, waiting for him.  
  
None of them had wanted to stop and rest but there had been no choice left. After the battle at Amon Hen, they had set out on foot, intent on finding Arwen and rescuing Merry and Pippin. When Legolas had last been able to glimpse the horde of Orcs, he had estimated them to be a good twelve leagues ahead. Aragorn had wanted to continue; Gimli had wanted to continue; Legolas could have continued. But they were exhausted and tracking was near impossible to do in the dark, so Aragorn made the decision to stop and rest until dawn. While Gimli and Aragorn slept, Legolas stood watch.  
  
The night sky was just beginning to turn a shade of grey and soon they would be able to set out once more. Not far behind them, they had reached a heavily trampled area, containing footprints of both the large creatures, which had attacked them at Amon Hen and the smaller ones of Orcs. There had been no sign of the Hobbits or of Arwen. Now Aragorn found that all he wanted was some hint that she was all right, some clue that they were on the right track that she was not far ahead of them. He was no fool. He knew that deep down inside what he really wanted was to be able to see her, to touch her, to hold her against him and assure her that he would never leave her side again. But a small sign, anything, would have sustained him for the moment.  
  
"Legolas?"  
  
He took a deep breath and turned to face Aragorn as he moved up beside him. "You have rested?"  
  
The Ranger nodded, watching his friend closely. "Yes. Gimli still sleeps. I figure we have a few minutes more before it will be light enough to continue on."  
  
Legolas nodded, his gaze casting out across the open plain before them. No movement. Nothing. He looked at Aragorn.  
  
"She'll be fine," Legolas said, as if reading his mind. "She's stronger than I believed. She won't do anything foolish."  
  
At this, Aragorn turned to meet the Elf's gaze. His eyes were dark. "She loves those Hobbits. Boromir gave his life to protect them. She would do no less."

Legolas was silent, uncertain of what to say in reply. He knew that Aragorn spoke truthfully. "Aragorn, I -"  
  
The Man moved a few feet ahead, his eyes still scanning the lightening horizon. "I asked her to wed me," he told the Elf quietly. "I was going to take her back to Rivendell. I... " He paused and Legolas slowly approached him, listening intently, offering what strength that he could.  
  
"Do you think Arwen would like the White City?" Aragorn asked softly.  
  
"I am certain of it." Legolas smiled, placing a hand on the Man's shoulder.  
  
"Why didn't you wake me?" Gimli grumbled from behind them, moving up to stand at their sides. "We should have been long gone from here."  
  
"Not so, my friend," Aragorn assured him. "Dawn has only just begun to filter the sky."  
  
While Aragorn and Gimli each had a quick bite of lembas and cool drink of water, Legolas remained on the knoll, his eyes continually scanning the horizon as night lightened into morning.

Silence and darkness surrounded the thicket. A dead Orc lay just within the copse of trees that sheltered the glade from the open field beyond. Here and there leaves, and the ground they were scattered upon, were speckled with drops of blood, testimony to the fight, which had occurred there earlier. A doe stepped in through the trees, her sleek nose raised in warning at the scent of the death that hung in the air. Large black eyes focused on the immobile form lying amidst the leaves. The animal took a tentative step forward before suddenly wheeling about and disappearing back into the woods.  
  
Arwen opened her eyes at the sound. At first her heart raced in anticipation but after a moment it slowed once more into a dull beat. She was cold, and it was no longer from the breeze that brushed across her bruised and battered skin. This chill swept over her from somewhere deep inside, gnawing into her bones. It lulled her toward a blissful sleep, no matter how hard she fought against it. At first there had been too much pain to do little more than lay there, crying in agony. Then she had fallen unconscious. When next she woke, the pain had lessened; her body was growing colder, edging her towards sleep. But she was afraid to close her eyes, afraid that she would never open them again.  
  
Aragorn...  
  
Arwen had only slipped off to sleep for a few moments when the Orcs had found her. The group had stopped once more and Arwen had not known that the Northern Orcs, which had originally run off, were coming back around behind them. She had sat down to rest and wait, wondering if a chance would ever present itself for her to attempt to rescue Merry and Pippin. Her gaze still searched the distance for a glimpse of Aragorn.  
  
Then the Orcs had grabbed her.  
  
She had fought, killing five, wounding a few others, before they finally wrestled her sword away from her. It was the Uruk-hai who had taken over from there, curious about the Elf they now held captive. They had quickly decided that since she was not a Hobbit, she was not needed or wanted by Saruman, which gave them leave to do with her as they pleased. As so they had taken their time doling out their punishment, beating and molesting her in increasingly aberrant ways, her body bruised and lacerated where they had both bitten her and ripped at her flesh with their nails. What remained of her clothing was torn and bloody, doing little to cover her nakedness. Her skin showed signs of deep bruising and severe cuts, her left arm twisted and broken. Through all that she had suffered, one memory stood out in her mind - that of Pippin screaming her name as they carried him and Merry off, leaving her to die. Even now, Arwen could still hear him calling to her and the remembered sound mixed with their rancid smell, a mixture that reminded her only of decay and death, assailing her memory, forcing Arwen to close her eyes against it, fighting back the need to scream. A ragged sob escaped her and she suddenly realized that she would not be able to say goodbye to Aragorn.  
  
It was all she wanted. To see him once more, to hear his beautiful voice, to smell his scent which held within it the promise of spring, to feel his touch... Tears that she thought were all spent began to fall once more. She was dying, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Aragorn would be too late. Or perhaps pass by without even knowing she was there. And then she would never be able to tell him again how much she loved him, how happy he had made her, how she had wanted so very much to be his wife.  
  
_Because sometimes we do not possess the strength needed within us to say goodbye..._  
  
Arwen's eyes flew open as the voice of Galadriel, her grandmother drifted through her mind. Suddenly, she knew what the little vial of amber liquid was for. Strength. Lifting her head painfully, Arwen's gaze searched the ground around her. She remembered one of the Uruk-hai ripping the gold chain from her neck and tossing it... There! It was a few feet away, out of reach of her grasp, but she knew she had to get to it, if for no other reason than to be able to see Aragorn one last time.  
  
It took almost all of what was left in her to drag herself across the leaves to the chain, but Arwen finally clenched the tiny vial into her hand. She struggled to open it one-handed, then quickly put it to her lips and drank the amber liquid. It was thick, like syrup, and had a citrus flavour to it. Almost instantaneously, she felt strength move through her limbs. Her heart beat just a little stronger; her breathing was just a little more regular. Warmth infused the cold. She rested her head against the ground once more, closing her eyes, picturing Aragorn, his clear blue gaze, and the dimple that appeared when he smiled. She would see him again. She was strong now.  
  
Hope filled her even as Galadriel's parting words whispered across her mind. _"Even though we do not mean to, we can often bring inexplicable pain to those we love the most."_

_  
_

Ten hours later, Legolas finally came to a halt, his eyes searching the copse of trees on either side of the field. Instinctively, something had caused him to stop and he glanced uncertainly at Aragorn, whose face had become more and more strained as the day progressed. Shadows seemed to hover around him and Legolas silently hoped that they would find Arwen soon, if only to relieve his solitary suffering. Kneeling down, the Elf checked the ground, noting trampled leaves and recently distressed ground.  
  
"Aragorn, Gimli, why don't you scout that area over there near the trees? I am going to look around here some more and check this glade."  
  
Gimli moved off without question but Aragorn seemed to hesitate, watching Legolas closely. Finally, he asked the Elf, _"Mani naa ta?"_ (What is it)  
  
Legolas shook his head. He did not want to admit that something in the area was bothering him, that he no longer felt so confidant in their chase. He knew Aragorn harboured enough of his own fears. _"Kai."_ (Nothing)  
  
Aragorn hesitated a moment longer before turning and moving off across the field.  
  
Legolas waited a brief moment then turned to look at the copse of trees ahead. He lifted the hand that had touched the ground, his eyes glancing over the smear of blood on his fingertips. Hoping that it was only the traces of a recent animal kill, Legolas walked steadily forward toward the row of trees.  
  
Pushing past the branches, the Elf almost tripped over the dead body of the Orc that lay in his path. Relief filled him and he knelt, checking the body for clues to what had happened until his gaze strayed to the sword that lay nearby. Reaching out and grabbing it by the hilt, Legolas hefted Arwen's sword into his hand with a grimace. She would not have left it here by choice. He stood, holding it still, wondering if she too were now a captive along with Merry and Pippin when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye.  
  
Turning toward the centre of the glade, Legolas closed his eyes, his head dropping for a moment in defeat. "Oh no." He did not know if he spoke the words aloud or not. Lifting his head, eyes focused on the unmoving form ahead, the Elf moved forward slowly, his feet suddenly heavy and unwilling to cooperate.  
  
Mind refusing to accept what appeared apparent before him, Legolas slowly knelt beside Arwen's broken and bloody form. Snatching the cloak from his shoulders, he gently laid it over her before reaching out to delicately roll her over. The Elf started when her eyes flickered open. One was bruised and almost swollen completely shut but the other looked up at him with full lucidity. She searched his face for a long moment before speaking.  
  
"Hello, Legolas."  
  
"Arwen... " He was uncertain of what to say. Her injuries were extensive, beyond anything he could care for. And they were almost two weeks away from Lothlorien.  
  
As if reading his mind, Arwen said softly, "I know."  
  
He hung his head.  
  
"Aragorn?"  
  
Mentally Legolas cursed himself for not calling him immediately and yet, a part of him dreaded the reunion. "Of course. Forgive me, Arwen. He is here and he is safe."  
  
She smiled.  
  
Aragorn was moving back toward the copse of trees when he heard Legolas call out his name. He stopped abruptly, the recently persistent fear assailing him. He heard it in the Elf's voice - sorrow, regret. He found he could not take another step. He stood there, unmoving, dreading the walk through the trees ahead. He heard the Dwarf move up beside him.  
  
"Aragorn? Legolas has called for you."  
  
"I... " His heart began slamming against his chest. "I cannot... "  
  
"Come, my friend. I am here beside you," Gimli encouraged, moving forward as Aragorn did.  
  
Legolas looked up at the rustle of branches ahead. He had tried to clean some of the blood from the cuts along Arwen's face, and wrapped the cloak securely around her body. He had done what he could to make her more comfortable but it did little to hide the obvious.  
  
Stepping through the branches of the trees around him, Aragorn had barely entered the glade before his gaze found Legolas and Arwen, confirming to him the horror that had slowly built itself within his heart. For a moment he stood frozen to the ground, unable to move forward, unable to make a sound or react in any fashion. He could only stare, his legs trembling beneath him, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. His vision blurred. He would kill who did this. He would hunt them down and kill them, one by one, if it took him forever, he would do this.  
  
"Aragorn... " Her voice, weak and unsteady, reached out to him, breaking through the jumbled mass his mind had quickly become.  
  
With a cry the Man leapt forward, coming to his knees beside Arwen, scooping her gently into his arms. _"Melamin!"_ (My love) _"Amin haraetha!" _(Forgive me) _"Amin sinome sii."_ (I am here now) He brushed aside the strands matted with blood, his gentle caress moving over her as he fought to ignore the remnants of the torment and pain she had been put through.  
  
Arwen reached her hand up to touch his cheek, a smile appearing when she realized he was real. "Aragorn... I waited for you."  
  
_"Amin sinome, melamin."_ (I am here)_ "Lle Varna sii,"_ (You're safe now) he told her in a whisper. Panic slowly began to assail him. The Man looked up sharply at Gimli and Legolas. "Gimli, find some athelas for her wounds. Legolas, we must build a stretcher to carry her. We will take her back to Lothlorien. They will help her."  
  
Gimli, who was staring down at Arwen with a horrified expression, started to move when Legolas placed his hand on the Dwarf's shoulder, holding him there.  
  
Aragorn saw this action and his eyes darkened. "Did you not hear me? We have to get her to a healer!"  
  
"Aragorn..."  
  
Glaring at his companions, Aragorn turned his gaze once more to the Elf in his arms and his expression softened. "Shhh, _melamin_. Save your strength."  
  
But Arwen was slowly shaking her head, watching him sadly. "It's too late for that, _tarenamin_."  
  
"No," Aragorn denied instantly, his eyes flashing. "You will not leave me, _melamin. Lle il'lembuva amin!"_ (You cannot leave me)  
  
She stroked his cheek, her fingers dancing lightly over his lips. _"Amin il'lembuva lle, Aragorn. _(I will never leave you) Her hand drifted down to hover over his heart. _"Amin nevuva yassen lle, sinome, ten'oio."_ (I'll be with you, here, forever)  
  
But he was shaking his head. "No. You're going to be fine. I will take you to Lorien by myself if I have to." He started to gather Arwen into his arms when she cried out from the pain. Instantly, the Man crumpled against her, the first tears he had shed in years, falling from his eyes. _"Amin haraetha, melamin." _(Forgive me, my love) _"Amin haraetha."_ (Forgive me) _"Seas uuma lembuva amin." _(Please don't leave me) "_Amin il'coie avaena lle."_ (I cannot live without you) _"Saes..."_ (Please)  
  
Arwen knew she had no concept of pain as she stared into the bright blue eyes before her. She never expected to have to suffer his grief. Gently, she wiped a tear away. _"Amin mela lle,"_ (I love you) she whispered softly. _"Amin mela lle, Aragorn._" (I love you, Aragorn)  
  
_"Amin mela lle,"_ (I love you) he replied through tears, burying his face against her neck. The scent of the Orcs was on her skin and he hated as he had never hated before.  
  
Arwen turned to see Gimli and Legolas watching them silently. She forced a smile. _"Ai'atar,"_ (Little father) she said softly, calling Gimli to her.  
  
"Yes, Arwen?"  
  
"Stay with him, Gimli," she requested, stroking the brown head that lay against her. "Don't leave his side."  
  
"I won't," the Dwarf replied with a sniff. "I promise."

She turned over to Legolas. "Legolas..."

Yes, Arwen?"

"You have been a wonderful teacher, friend and brother. I am proud to have known you. Say farewell to my family for me, please..."

"Shhh," Legolas said. "I will, Arwen. Save your strength."

The copper taste of blood was filling her mouth. Arwen knew she did not have much longer. Cupping Aragorn's chin, she raised his head to meet her gaze. In sorrow he only appeared more beautiful. She hated being the cause of his pain. Hated that they did not have more time together, that she would never again be able to make him laugh or feel his gentle kiss awaken her in the morning. She wondered who he would find to love him when she was gone, then told herself not to think about it.  
  
"You have to find Merry and Pippin. They... " She paused, struggling for a breath amidst the blood that was seeping into her lungs. "They need to know this wasn't their fault. Will you tell them that?"  
  
Aragorn did not seem to hear her. _"Uuma lembuva amin," _(Don't leave me) he whispered again, brushing a hand over her brow.  
  
Arwen closed her eyes, telling him, "_Melamin,_ it is not your fault either."  
  
_"Amin uume lembe lle,"_ (I should not have left you) Aragorn wept, kissing her mouth, willing his own strength into her_. "Amin uume lembe lle."_ (I should not have left you)  
  
"Your duty is to the Fellowship. To the destruction of the Ring. And not to me." She opened her eyes once more, only to find that her focus had darkened. Fear swept over her. She did not want to die. _"Aragorn, amin gorga..." _(I'm afraid)  
  
Those simple words almost destroyed him. "_Amin vithel, melamin,"_ he admitted tenderly. "_Amin vithel." _(I am too)  
  
"I wanted very much... to be your wife."  
  
"You are," he cried. "You are and always shall be." Aragorn crushed her to him. _"By Earendil! Seas uuma lembuva amin, melamin."_ (Please don't leave me)  
  
She smiled softly. ... _Cormamin niuve tenna'... ta Elea lle au'..."_ (My heart shall weep... until it sees thee again)  
  
Arwen fell limp against Aragorn.  
  
"_Namarie_, Arwen," Legolas said quietly, tears running down his and Gimli's face as Aragorn's weeping echoed through the glade. _"Quel esta." _(Rest well)

_**To Be Continued...**_


End file.
